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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680061">The Provider</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/pseuds/RubyLipsStarryEyes'>RubyLipsStarryEyes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Absolution, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Blow Jobs, Coitus Interruptus, Consensual, Cunnilingus, Edging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forgiveness, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Loss of Virginity, Newlywed, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overbearing Mother, Public Blow Jobs, Punishment, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Teasing, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning, puppy, the virgin isn’t who you think it is, wedding planner Pansy Parkinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:41:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>51,575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/pseuds/RubyLipsStarryEyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville Longbottom agreed to an arranged marriage. Pansy Parkinson is their wedding planner, and everything is fine until the rehearsal dinner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Neville Longbottom/?, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The One With the Wedding Planner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This surely wasn’t how he’d pictured his wedding day. As far as Pansy knew, he was still in love with the blonde Hufflepuff. Hannah Abbott had died two years previously, leaving Neville Longbottom broken-hearted, single, and decidedly not ready to mingle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which is why, she supposed, that he’d agreed to an arranged marriage. His grandmother had found him a bride. A pureblood, even. Though she was still surprised he’d said yes to a Slytherin. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As a wedding planner and pureblood herself, Pansy was accustomed to the idea. She herself had been betrothed to Draco Malfoy for most of their school years. But the Malfoy’s fall from grace had been significantly worse than her own, despite her shortcomings, and the engagement had been called off. Which was fine for Pansy. Her mother would find a suitable match eventually. She had a hard time believing that Neville Longbottom was as blasé when it came to his life parter. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the day was upon them, and he hadn’t backed out. So as the dutiful wedding planner, Pansy checked the flower arrangements one last time, and went off in search of the wedding gown that was supposed to have been delivered an hour earlier. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">~~~</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She watched dispassionately as the bridal party dressed, her mind wandering back to her first meeting with Neville after the engagement, nearly nine months ago. She’d assumed it would be the basics- guest list, cake flavors, dinner options. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d sat across the table from her, a cup of tea at his elbow, looking far more relaxed than she’d expected from the bumbling student she’d once known. His home was clean, neat. A small cottage in Hogsmead, not far from Hogwarts where he taught. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you plan on living here after the wedding?” She’d cringed internally at her blatant lack of tact, but he shrugged, seemingly unphased. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not particularly attached. It serves it’s purpose, but if something bigger is preferred, I’m not opposed.” She nodded, busying herself with a notepad and quill, flipping to a previously filled page. </span>
</p><p class="p2"><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So for the guest list, this is what your grandmother provided.” She offered the notebook to him, but he waved it off. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s very thorough. I’m sure it’s fine.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pansy nodded, flipping the page. “For dinner and cake, I assume you’ll want to schedule a tasting with the caterer. Is there a date or time that works best?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Again he waved her off. “I’m sure the bride has it well in hand.” This time it was accompanied with a small smile. “I hear she’s been planning for a while now.” Pansy huffed. She’d worked with difficult brides before, but worse was a groom that took no interest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look. We just want to ensure your tastes are equally represented. I’m not trying to—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Pansy,” he interrupted her. “I understand that a wedding is an important event. But I want to be clear that a wedding is a day. I’m far more interested in the marriage that comes after. I fully intend to be a good husband, and hopefully a father. If I’ve learned anything these last few years, it’s that I’m a provider. And whatever it is that’s needed, I will be willing to go to the ends of the earth to deliver. Financially, physically, emotionally...” His hazel eyes watched her steadily, and she had felt as if he could see her soul in that moment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pansy had blinked at him, trying to fully comprehend what it was that he was saying. She swallowed hard. “I think what your bride needs most right now is your cooperation with wedding plans.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then may I see the guest list?” He held out a hand for the notebook, and she handed it back, trying to hide her surprise. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From that moment on he’d carefully reviewed each decision that Pansy had approached him with, adding in suggestions here and there, even veto’ing several songs Pansy had slipped into the playlist as a test to see if he was really paying attention or just going through the motions. </span>
</p><p class="p2"><br/>
Nine months of regular meetings, and Pansy found she genuinely liked the quiet, reserved Herbology professor. His easy smile, his rumbling chuckle that she swore she could feel in her bones. The feeling bagged at her, though. The feeling that this lovely man deserved so much better than the woman his grandmother had drummed up from the dregs of society. But she pushed it away, keeping her mouth shut and upturned in a pretty smile, assuring everyone that it would be perfect. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And all had gone perfectly, until the night of the rehearsal dinner. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">~~~ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Pansy, may I have a word?” Neville’s teeth were clenched in frustration, the closest she’d seen him to anger since their school days.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The party was over, and she’d been overseeing the careful disassembly of the decorations in the Longbottom’s ballroom. She followed him into a small sitting room close by, closing the door and standing a respectful distance from him, waiting patiently for him to unleash whatever anger had been slowly building. Better on her than anyone else. She at least deserved it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If it’s going to be too difficult to be around Harry and —“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Neville, you don’t need to dance around my feelings. If anything, I deserve this for what I did.” She hadn’t meant to confess to him, but it had all tumbled out once he’d turned those hazel eyes to her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d taken it in stride though, not a flicker of pity in those soul-shredding eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You deserve it,” he repeated flatly, and that’s when she’d torn her eyes away, long-buried shame bubbling up in her chest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you need?” His unexpected question blindsided her, and she stumbled over her apology. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I—I don’t understand.” She let her eyes find his again, and his calm, unwavering gaze ripped her apart. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you need, Pansy? I know you apologized to him, to us. What do you need to alleviate that guilt?” His voice was low, commanding, and not for the first time she wondered what he would be like in a marriage bed. Sweet and considerate? Dominating and unrelenting? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite everyone’s assumptions that she and Draco had slept together for years, and they’d certainly fooled around, they’d never gotten that far. Their strict, pureblood, traditionalist upbringing meant penetrative sex was strictly off the table until after marriage. And now her imagination was running wild. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her neck grew hot and she looked away. Now was decidedly <em>not </em>the time. What he was asking was something she still thought of often, and the answer danced on the tip of her tongue. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Answer me.” A new edge in his voice made her heart nearly stop. This was <em>not</em> the boy she’d known in school. This man that stood before her now... She swallowed hard. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Punishment. Absolution. I walked away and I shouldn’t have.” Her voice was quiet, his mere presence stripping away the bravado that she’d relied on for so many years. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for him to laugh, or tell her she was right, and she didn’t deserve happiness. Instead, she heard a whisper, felt a light fluttering of magic around her. She cracked her eyes to find his wand in his hand, now folded across his broad chest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hadn’t allowed herself to really look at him before, but now... He was tall, thickly muscled and tan from unnamed hours working in the sun. His button up shirt was fitted, showing off his broad shoulders and tapered waist. His pants likewise clearly showed his massive thighs and toned backside. He was attractive, there was no denying it. He waited patiently until she couldn’t take the silence any longer. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can give it to you— provide it to you— if that’s what you need.” </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Punishment. Absolution. Forgiveness. </span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1">His gaze was still unnervingly calm, and Pansy’s mouth went dry. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The room is silenced, and nobody needs to know. But I have two rules.” He waited until she nodded for him to continue. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The first and most important is that if it becomes too much, or at anytime you want it to stop, you voice that. Once you say stop, it ends.” She nodded hesitantly, and he went on. “The second is that once it’s over, it doesn’t leave this room. The guilt, that is. Once this is done, that’s it. No more letting it fester and eat at you. You move past it and next time to see them— us— you see us for who we are, not who we were.” She nodded again, and clasped her hands together to hide her shaking. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you accept these conditions?” She nodded, and he cocked his head. “I need to hear you. Do you accept these conditions?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” It was scarcely more than a whisper, but it was enough. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good. Now kneel on the sofa, hands on the back, knees spread.” He motioned to what looked like a genuine Louis XIV settee, and sheapproached, hiking her skirt just enough that she didn’t kneel on it, taking the position he requested. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She jumped when his hand landed lightly on her back, pushing her forward, until her forehead hit her hands, curled around the carved wood in an iron grip. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His hand was still resting on the middle of her back when he used his other to lift her skirt, hiking it over her hips, baring her lacy knickers to the cool air of the room. She began to tremble, and he swiped slow, steady strokes across her back with his thumb. When her shaking subsided, he eased her knickers down her thighs, leaving her bare. His hand came up, smoothing it over her arse, almost as if he was petting her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Remember. You say stop, and it’s over. Are you ready?” His voice was low, and it sent a shiver up her spine, the warmth of his hands on her notwithstanding. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” Again it was barely a whisper, but his hand disappeared from her arse, leaving only the one on her back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The first crack of his hand against her bare skin made her gasp and shudder, and she jerked away from him instinctively but he waited for her to return to her original position before the second strike. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She tried to count, but but burning sting of his palm against her flesh consumed her, hissing and spitting until the dam within her broke, and tears poured down her cheeks in a torrent of emotions. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you ready to stop?” His voice tugged at something within her, but she shook her head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No!” She should have been mortified, crying— sobbing—in front of this man, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care as he laid down blow after blow, until her thighs shook so violently she didn’t know if she could stay upright any longer. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Stop.” The gasped word broke the spell, and she let him guide her down to the cushion of the settee, tears still running down her face. At the gentle caress of his broad hand over her arse, she shuddered, fresh sobs tearing from her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s right. Let it all out.” She vaguely realized that he’d been whispering encouragement to her for some time now. “You did so well. It’s over now. It’s all over. You’re forgiven. You paid the price and it’s all over.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She cried until she didn’t have anything left, and when she lifted her head, he was still kneeling beside her, stroking her hair gently. “Better?” He searched her face, and to her amazement, she nodded. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The gnawing guilt and the dark hole of self hatred had abated, and she felt lighter. Clean, despite the dried tears crusting down her cheeks, neck, and chest. He’d given her exactly what she’d needed, and she closed her eyes as his gentle stroking continued. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She thought that after all he’d done, he would kiss her, or touch her, but he kept his hands on her back and her hair, not once straying to anything more inappropriate. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re too good for her,” she whispered. Neville’s hand stilled in her hair. She felt exhausted, too exhausted to care if it made him angry. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But there was no anger in his voice, just a gentle rebuke when he replied, “No I’m not. People just don’t understand her.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waited there with her until she was able to push herself up with shaking arms. He watched her face carefully without touching her as she eased her knickers up over her bruised bum, and straightened her skirt. “If you’d like to floo home, I can make your excuses,” he told her gently, nodding to a large fireplace. She just nodded. Before stepping to the fireplace, she grabbed his hand, and watched as his eyes widened in surprise. She’d been careful not to touch him in the months they’d been planning the wedding. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s lucky to have you,” she said quietly, and meant it. “Thank you.” He just nodded, and stood with his hands in his pockets, watching as she spun away in a flash of emerald flames. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">~~~</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That had been three days ago, and it was only the morning of his wedding that she’d caved and healed what was left of the fading red marks across her arse. But she’d kept her promise, and as Luna, Hermione, and Ginny oohed and awed over the wedding dress, she was able to see for perhaps the first time that they were good women. They hadn’t once needled her or Daphne or Tracey, despite their rocky history. She’d been able to look Harry Potter in the face and thank him for catching a vase that had nearly been knocked off a pedestal by Neville’s ancient Uncle Algie, and had seen Luna give Draco what looked to be an extremely awkward hug. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her heart clenched, though, when she saw Neville standing in his morning suit with Harry, Draco, Theo, Ron, and Blaise to his left. This surely wasn’t how he’d pictured his wedding day, to a Slytherin girl that had made his life hell. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It finally sank in, though, when he recited his vows. “I vow to protect you, to care for you, to provide for you. I vow to never allow you to walk or to suffer alone.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she blinked them away before anyone else could see. He was too good for her... but despite it all, he was </span>
  <span class="s2">hers. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He squeezed her hand as he slid the ring onto her finger, those hazel eyes stripping her soul bare once again. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The One With the Wedding Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The wedding night brings surprises</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That night, after the celebration ended, Neville wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. He’d just aparated them to his small cottage, and Pansy was nervous for what was to come next. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing is going to happen until you’re ready.” She froze, and the same hand that had spanked her raw came up to stroke her back. “I meant what I said. I will do anything to give you what you need. If that’s time and space to become accustomed to the idea of...” he paused.“Of being with me, I’ll give you all the time you need. I can sleep in the spare room.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He let her go, and she held on to the thoughts that had been flirting through her mind since the rehearsal dinner, trying to drum up the courage to speak. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want time,” she blurted, before he could leave her alone. It was his turn to freeze, and she reached out for him, entwining their left hands so their wedding rings clinked softly together. She was breathing too fast, but she didn’t care. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turned slowly to face her, his expression inscrutable. Her neck was growing hot again, but she didn’t look away, hoping that those hazel eyes saw her honesty. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stepped closer, and she let her hand fall away from his, sliding it hesitantly down his chest and around to his back. He remained still, letting her trail her fingers along his ribs and down to his waist. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want time,” she repeated. His eyes searched her face, and then he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He peppered her face with small, light kisses as her hands grew bolder, increasing the pressure on his torso from featherlight to firm. His own hands rested lightly on her own waist, thumbs swiping gently over the corseted bodice of her wedding gown. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When both of her hands were gripping him tightly, he brought up one of his own, cupping her jaw and lacing through her hair, and kissed her. This wasn’t one of the chaste kisses he’d been giving on demand of guests throughout the day, but a deep, passionate kiss that left Pansy breathless and reeling. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He withdrew, and she whimpered at the loss of his mouth. “Are you sure? There’s no rush.” She wanted to scream, to tell him she’d been aching for him for days, but none of that came out. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, sir,” she breathed, and something within her leapt for joy at the gleam in his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We have plenty of time for that later,” he said gently, tracing the curve of her neck with light fingertips. “Our first time is going to be spent with me making love to you, like you deserve.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She stopped breathing, panic lacing through her veins. Here it was. Here was the humiliation and where he was going to leave her to rot because of the things she’d done—</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Pansy,” he said firmly, cupping her jaw and forcing her to look up at him again. “You promised to leave that behind. I took you as my wife, and that means I will treat you like a goddess. You deserve the best, and I will spend every day for the rest of our lives reminding you. Do you understand?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt lightheaded and dizzy, but she was breathing again. “Yes.” Her fingers dug into him, and she realized her hands were shaking again. He smoothed one hand down her back, and drew her into his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t ever recall being hugged. Not like this, where she felt safe and cared for. She didn’t delude herself into thinking that he loved her, but then she didn’t love him either. Not yet. But in his hold, she believed that maybe one day she would love him.. and if she was lucky, he would love her too, like he loved Hannah. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you need time?” She suddenly felt ashamed for not asking before. He rested his chin on her head, and she listened as his heart beat faster. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” he finally said softly. “I don’t.” She waited a moment longer before pulling back, taking his hand and leading him to his bedroom. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like the rest of the house, it was comfortable, cozy even; but she began to lose her nerve at the sight of the big bed, a cream duvet spread out neatly over forest green sheets. She smiled, thinking it was ironic that the Gryffindor slept in green. But she lost her smile as she turned back to him and caught the hungry look in his eye. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kiss me,” she pleaded. He complied readily, kissing her with an edge of desperation that hadn’t been there before. She pushed his coat from his shoulders, her fingers stumbling over the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt until both hung open, baring his chest to her. A smattering of hair darkened his chest, a trail of it leading tantalizingly down beneath his trousers. He shrugged off the vest and shirt, his muscles rippling as he did, making Pansy’s heart pound. Toeing off his shoes and socks, he tossed his wand to the bed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked to her even as he undid his belt and trousers with a practiced flick of his wrist. They slid down, revealing impossibly strong thighs that Pansy was desperate to touch. His dark boxers couldn’t hide the straining length at his hips, and it was only his chuckle that drew Pansy’s eyes up again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Does my wife approve?” A smile and dancing eyes made her heart stutter, and somewhere in the back of her mind she thought this couldn’t be healthy. Nor was her behavior anything that would have been expected of Pansy Parkinson. Then she realized that she wasn’t Pansy Parkinson any longer. She was Pansy Longbottom now, and that might not be the worst thing in the world. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your wife is wearing entirely too much,” she shot back at him, trying to hide how nervous she really was, but he was drawing closer, and her breath caught. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then we should fix that,” he murmured in her ear, turning her in place so she faced the bed. She shivered as his fingers brushed along her spine, deftly undoing the line of tiny buttons. When he reached the base of her spine, he placed a hot kiss at the base of her neck, lighting every nerve on fire. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pansy panted at the exertion of simply staying upright as the heavy gown slipped down her body, leaving her in nothing but a lacy white bra and matching knickers her mother had insisted upon. “Picture of demure virginity,” she’d called it, and suddenly she was grateful to her mother. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neville’s fingers skated over the newly exposed expanse of her back, and then offered a hand to steady her as she stepped out of the gown. She started to kick off her heels, but he stopped her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait.” He picked you her dress from the floor, tossing it over the chair in the corner, and nodded to the bed. “Sit on the edge for me,” he said softly, sinking to his knees.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Apprehension gave her pause, but she did as he asked, knees pressed tightly together and ankles crossed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He reached up, rubbing from just over her knees down her calves, to slide her heels off carefully himself. He brushed kisses to her legs, almost reverently working his way up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you still sore from the other night?” He asked from the inside of her knee, where he was urging her to spread her legs inch by inch. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” She gasped as his hands wandered up the outside of her thighs to her hips. “I—I healed the rest—the rest of it this— this morning.” She couldn’t think straight with his tongue brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and when his fingers hooked under the sides of her knickers, she whimpered softly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He chuckled as he eased them down her thighs. “I never thought that I would get that kind of sound from Pansy Parkinson.” She snapped her knees together, preventing him from getting them off completely, and leaned forward. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s Pansy Longbottom, and nobody has gotten that sound out of me,” she snapped. He tilted his head back to look at her, amusement dancing in his eyes once more. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My apologies, Mrs. Longbottom. But I’m afraid you’ll be making that sound extremely often from here on out.” Her shock at his confidence was enough for him to slide them the rest of the way down, tossing them behind him and pressing her gently into the mattress. As if to prove his point, he littered her skin with soft kisses; up her hips, across her stomach and just under the band of her bra. He didn’t let up until another soft whimper left her lips, and then he looked up, grinning like the devil. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was panting again, and he slid up her body to rest along side it. She rolled to press her body against his, and he reached around as if to brace himself, but deftly undid her bra one handed, letting the strapless bra fall between them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did you—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Practice,” he said easily, and then attacked her neck with his lips. The next little moan came much more quickly, and he gently pressed her back down against the bed. She threw the bra aside, and he lowered himself to her breasts, pausing before making contact. She nodded, and then his mouth was on her, licking and sucking, nibbling and laving until moans and whimpers were the only sounds she could make. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was distantly aware that she was clawing his back to shreds with her long nails, but when he brought up a hand to tease the nipple he wasn’t sucking on, she shrieked and lost all coherent thought. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was ready to beg him to stop when he released her nipple with a soft “pop.” He looked up at her with lust-blown pupils nearly obscuring all of the hazel green of his irises, and she rolled her hips under him, only the thin cotton of his boxers between them now. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He murmured something against her neck, and they vanished, leaving his cock heavy and hot against her hipbone.“Are you sure?” He was breathing hard, and Pansy’s hands trembled, but turned and captured his lips with hers, moaning her answer into his mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He reached between her legs, but instead of lining himself up, whispered another spell. The cool, slick sensation had her gasping, but he swallowed it, one finger playing with her clit until she ground against him, aching for more. He slid one finger in, and then a second, slow, controlled thrusts only frustrating her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She growled, and he pressed more kissed to her chest, throat, and neck. “I don’t want this to hurt, love. Be patient.” Her impatience vanished when he pressed a third finger into her, and she was left panting at the stretch. “Almost there, love. You’re so beautiful.” He kept whispering, his low voice a rumble in her ear. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he slid his hand free, he kissed her again, and was still kissing her when he lined himself up and pressed slowly into her throbbing heat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bloody hell,” he groaned, and she nodded, unable to make her mouth form words. “Relax love. You’re going to crush my cock or draw blood.” With great difficulty she flattened her palms against his back and took in a deep breath, focusing on relaxing her body around his. He pressed a series of soft kisses to her temple and jaw, waiting until she sighed, relaxing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry,” she finally murmured, and he chuckled. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have nothing to be sorry for. Not anymore.” She buried her face in his neck, smoothing her hands down his back until he took the hint and began to move. He rolled his hips gently, each thrust brushing a spot within her and dragging deliciously over her clit until she was seeing stars. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck,” she groaned, and Neville sped up, his lips following the ridge of her collarbone, kissing and nipping his way down to nibble on one pert nipple. He hummed around it, and her answering shriek was cut off as her orgasm snuck up on her, rendering her silent. Her back arched and she squeezed her eyes shut against the waves of pleasure that swelled up and over her. It was more like a swell of music than a crashing ocean wave, driving the air from her lungs and overwhelming every one of her senses. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neville came with a grunt, riding out their orgasms before rolling to one side, unsheathing himself and breathing hard. They lay there in silence for some time, Neville reaching over and stroking Pansy’s thigh. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I ask you a question?” Pansy rolled to her side, facing her new husband. He just cocked an eyebrow in response, and she reached out a tentative hand, resting it on his shoulder, tracing the lines of muscle beneath the golden tan skin. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How the </span>
  <span class="s2">fuck </span>
  <span class="s1">did you beat my arse black and blue and then pull </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>that</em>?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A slow grin spread across his face, and his frame shook with laughter. “It’s a long story.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">
    
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m just saying it wouldn’t be hard to rope me into continuing and explaining Neville’s long story... if anyone’s in the mood for some more smut 😉 Just let me know!</p><p>Anyway. Thanks for reading! XOXO, Ruby</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The One With the Headmistress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pansy promptly burst into tears. And this time she had the presence of mind to be absolutely mortified at Neville’s laughter dissolving into shock and dismay. </p><p> </p><p>She rolled away, sitting up and was looking to flee when Neville reached for her hand. “Hey hey hey. What’s wrong?” </p><p> </p><p>She shook her head sharply, curls that had come loose from her intricate updo swinging wildly. “I don’t know! I don’t cry! I was f-fine.” </p><p> </p><p>Neville pressed a gentle kiss to her hand, and she pulled her legs up to her chest, crying into her knees, facing resolutely away from him and his hazel eyes. “You’re just overwhelmed. It’s alright.” The mattress shifted behind her, and something white flew in from a door on her right. </p><p> </p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears the stop, but they just fell faster. This is where he left. This is where he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble and she would be ridiculed by the whole of the wizarding world— again. She was pulled from her spiraling thoughts as she was enveloped in a soft warmth. </p><p> </p><p>She looked down to see that Neville had draped an impossibly soft bathrobe around her shoulders, a warming charm applied. It was then she realized that she was shivering violently, curled in on herself. </p><p> </p><p>“May I hold you, or would you rather not be touched?” His voice was full of genuine concern, and she didn’t quite understand. He was her husband. He didn’t have to ask anymore; she was his to do with as he pleased. </p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t speak through the sobs that tore from her chest, but she leaned into his general vicinity, hoping he would stroke her hair as he had the night of the rehearsal dinner. He seemed to understand that he was free to touch her, because a solid arm came around her back. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright. Just let it all out. That’s it. You’re safe here. It’s just you and me.” She dropped her head to his shoulder, and relaxed as he carded his fingers through her hair, carefully removing pins and releasing charms that held it in place as he went. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s hard to be told no for so long and then a couple signatures and a bonding charm changes that. It’s normal to feel overwhelmed. It’s alright.” He rubbed her back comfortingly over the soft robe, and finally her tears began to slow. </p><p> </p><p>What he was saying made sense. But... “I don’t cry,” she sniffled insistently, resisting the urge to wipe her tears away and ruin the pristine white sleeves with mascara. </p><p> </p><p>“Everybody is entitled to a good cry now and then. It helps to let it all out.” </p><p> </p><p>“You sound like a self-help book,” she muttered, and he chuckled. </p><p> </p><p>“As much as I would like to take the credit for that last bit, that was all Minerva.”  She finally turned to look at him, disbelief clear on her face. </p><p> </p><p>“McGonagall told you it was okay to cry?”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded solemnly. “When it didn’t work being repeatedly cornered by Pomona and Poppy, the sent in their secret weapon. It was quite the wake up call.” </p><p> </p><p>She shook her head, more gently this time. “I don’t believe it. She’s so...”</p><p> </p><p>“Guarded? Collected? So much like you?” Neville offered, and Pansy’s jaw dropped. Of all the people she’d been compared to, (an ice queen and Satan’s Mistress came immediately to mind) the severe Headmistress and former head of Gryffindor house was not one of them. Not only that, but one of the first things she’d learned as they’d gotten to know one another again was that Minerva McGonagall was one of the people that Neville respected more than anyone else in the world. </p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>It was not quite a month after the engagement, and Pansy had forgotten to leave the list of cake options with Neville at tea the previous afternoon. She dreaded returning to the Hogwarts castle, but knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever if she was going to be marrying one of its professors. </p><p> </p><p>Neville had told her to floo over any time if she needed him, and she supposed this qualified, as the caterer needed their tasting choices by the following day. So she grit her teeth, straightened her skirt, and tossed in a handful of glittering floo powder, calling out for Neville’s office. </p><p> </p><p>She stepped out into the office, charming her clothes clean. She looked up, and clenched her jaw at the figure sitting at an angle to Neville. Minerva and Neville looked around in tandem, and Pansy felt her stomach turn. </p><p> </p><p>“This is unexpected.” Neville stood quickly, approaching her and brushing a soft kiss to her cheek. The greeting was the closest he’d been since the engagement, and she smothered her surprise at the intimate action before he stepped back. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry to interrupt. I forgot to leave this with you yesterday.” She held up the small, glossy booklet that held their cake options. “They need it by tomorrow.” Understanding dawned in Neville’s eyes, and he gestured to the seat he’d vacated. </p><p> </p><p>“If you’d like to stay for a cup of tea I can give you my choices before you go.” Pansy hesitated, looking to the Headmistress as if for permission to stay. Minerva’s thin lips twitched up in a small smile. </p><p> </p><p>“Good afternoon, Miss Parkinson. I do promise I don’t bite any more now than when you were a student.” </p><p> </p><p>Pansy nodded hesitantly. “Hello, Professor. It’s been a long time.” She let Neville guide her to the chair, and nodded in thanks as he prepared her a cup of tea. Two sugars and just the tiniest splash of milk, just as she liked it. How did he already know how she took her tea? She blinked at the cup as she took it, and Neville suddenly looked nervous. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—“</p><p> </p><p>“No! No, it’s perfect. Thank you.” Pansy gave him a small smile, and he sat down in the chair directly across from Minerva, who was watching with an amused expression. She took a sip of her own, and cocked her head at Pansy. </p><p> </p><p>“As you’re no longer my student, I insist you call me Minerva. It lets me forget that I’m old,” she said lightly, earning a scoff from Neville. He didn’t even look up as he flipped through the booklet. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re not old, Minerva. Stop trying to convince us otherwise.” Pansy took a sip of tea to hide her smirk, and Minerva huffed. “Tell that to my mirror. It was commenting on my wrinkles just this morning.” </p><p> </p><p>“Tell it to play Headmistress for a day and watch it turn silver,” he deadpanned, and Minerva chuckled. Pansy didn’t think she’d ever heard her former professor laugh before, and she fingered the handle of the delicate teacup as she took in the scene before her. </p><p> </p><p>“Neville was telling me you’ve become quite the successful event planner, Miss Parkinson.” </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose I’m adequate,” she said airily. “And please, it’s Pansy. Being called Miss Parkinson is giving me flashbacks to being called out in class for chatting instead of charming. Or talking instead of transfiguring, I suppose.” </p><p> </p><p>Minerva smirked. “It was quite the regular occurrence, wasn’t it? But I understand that very same social inclination has served you well. Winning the bid for the year's biggest event is quite the achievement. I should have listened when Sybil said you’d be a success.” </p><p> </p><p>Pansy flushed, not sure if it was truly a compliment from the woman. And when had that hag Trelawney said she’d succeed at anything? She hadn’t even passed divination. “I don’t know if it’s the biggest,” she said primly. </p><p> </p><p>“But then I doubt that even Sybil would have foreseen this union. I certainly didn’t.” Minerva punctuated the sentiment with another sip of tea. </p><p> </p><p>“I think that makes all three of us,” Neville chuckled from behind the pamphlet. “But in, what? 230 some-odd days we’ll all be eating our words.” </p><p> </p><p>“234,” Pansy corrected softly. She was taken off guard by how close he’d been, and took another sip of tea to hide it. She didn’t know if she could take any more surprises this afternoon. </p><p> </p><p>“Three?” Neville’s eyes flicked to Pansy for confirmation. </p><p> </p><p>“No, four. It’s a leap year. We get an extra day,” she murmured absently, mentally rerunning her calculations. </p><p> </p><p>“Three options, I mean.” He wiggled the book, and Pansy’s cheeks grew hot. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. Yes, three options each and then we can narrow it down once we’ve tasted them.” He nodded, and flipped the page. Minerva looked between the two as if watching a Wimbledon match, and Pansy felt supremely self conscious before her professor. </p><p> </p><p>She still didn’t know where she stood with the man that was to be her husband, let alone his colleagues that had given her countless detentions for her childhood escapades. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, how does vanilla raspberry, strawberries and cream, and lemon sound?” Neville looked up from the book, and Pansy blinked at him, confused once more. </p><p> </p><p>“Did I give you the one I’d marked?” She reached for the book, and he handed it back to her, looking wary. </p><p> </p><p>“Did I say something wrong?” </p><p> </p><p>Minerva pressed her lips together and Pansy wished she didn’t look as entertained as she did. </p><p> </p><p>“No!” Pansy panicked slightly. She hadn’t meant to give him the wrong idea. “It’s just those are the same three that I chose.” </p><p> </p><p>Neville looked surprised, uncertainty lining his features. “Do I need to pick ones you didn’t? I’m sure any of the others are fine—“</p><p> </p><p>Minerva evidently couldn’t hold back any longer, and snorted. “Please correct me if I’m mistaken, but I think Pansy is just surprised to learn your tastes align better than expected.” </p><p> </p><p>Both turned incredulous expressions to her, and she smothered another smile. </p><p> </p><p>“Well... I suppose so, yes.” Pansy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It will make choosing a flavor that much easier though,” she said softly, dropping her eyes to the teacup balanced in her lap. Pansy was having a hard time facing the woman, the events of her final year and those preceding the final battle lurking in the back of her mind. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh that reminds me!” Neville shot up from his seat. “I got a letter from Ginny!” He dashed from the room, leaving Pansy looking bewilderedly after him. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure how the ease of choosing a cake relates,” she confided to Minerva, and Minerva chuckled again.</p><p> </p><p>“It probably doesn’t.” She examined Pansy for a long, nerve wracking moment before adding, “I may be a little biased, but you really couldn’t do better for yourself than Neville.”</p><p> </p><p>Pansy bit back a retort, instead replying, “mother knows best, after all.” It was no secret their marriage was arranged, but Minerva waved her off with a flick of her wrist. “I think you’re better suited than even Cordelia and Augusta realize. Years ago? It never would have worked. But now...” she smiled knowingly, and Pansy bit her cheek, a part of her wondering if the Headmistress was off her rocker. Another, quieter part hoped she was right. </p><p> </p><p>They sat in silence until Neville returned, and Minerva stood, straightening her robes. “Thank you for the tea, and it was nice to see you again Pansy.” She gave Pansy a wry smile. “I expect we’ll be seeing each other soon.” </p><p> </p><p>Pansy gave her a tight smile, itching to flee the room. Why did she have to be betrothed to not just a Hogwarts professor, but one obviously that had tea with <em>McGonagall</em> on a regular basis? </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.” Neville came to sit down beside her again, drawing her attention to the letter in his hand. “You reminded me that you were worried about the bridal party being uneven if we had Hermione perform the ceremony and if Ginny was out with her pregnancy, but it turns out she’s further along than they thought. She’s due a few months before the wedding, so she’ll be fine to be in the wedding party.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Pansy couldn’t come up with anything more loquacious, and Neville raised an eyebrow. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you alright?” She hadn’t been prepared for his attention to be squarely on her, and now she was floundering. But she was Pansy Bloody Parkinson, and she didn’t flounder. But apparently Neville Bloody Longbottom missed that memo, and his eyes were shredding her to bits over a teacup. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you have tea with McGonagall often?” She tried to keep her voice level, even, unaffected. </p><p> </p><p>“Er... Every Thursday here. Sometimes she drops in on other days. I think she gets bored without classes, honestly...” he trailed off, looking thoughtful. “You haven’t seen her since eighth year, have you?” </p><p> </p><p>Pansy shifted under his steady gaze. When had she become so susceptible to uncomfortable silences? <em>When you started being analyzed by the man who is probably going to leave you as soon as he realizes what a terrible choice for a wife you are,</em> a voice that sounded shockingly like McGonagall’s whispered in the back of her mind. </p><p> </p><p>“No, I haven’t,” she finally admitted. “I did my best to steer clear of…” <em>Everyone that knew what happened seventh and eighth year,</em> psuedo-McGonagall whispered. “The past,” she finished, dropping her eyes to her teacup again. </p><p> </p><p>“Minerva is a relatively big part of my life. Is that going to be a problem?” His gentle tone felt worse than if he’d yelled. Was he asking if she was going to cause a scene or asking if he needed to call off the wedding? </p><p> </p><p>“I— it’s not—“ she clamped her mouth shut, frustrated and her lack of usual biting eloquence. How was he doing this to her? </p><p> </p><p>“I know it probably seems odd, but I consider Minerva to be as much my family as anyone could be.” He said it quietly, as if he was pleading with her to understand. “She never got to have kids before her husband died. And my family…” From the corner of her eye, she saw him rub the flat of his palm against the outside of his thigh. </p><p> </p><p>“Minerva was one of the first ones to really believe in me. I can’t tell you how many hours I spent in her office while we were students. If it wasn’t for her, I’d have never made it.” </p><p> </p><p>Pansy kept her eyes on her teacup, uncertain as to why he was telling her this, and trying to process the new information. Her head of house had been Snape. She’d thought he and McGonagall were similarly strict and aloof. Apparently she’d misjudged her. </p><p> </p><p>“She always seemed so hard on you.” She wasn’t sure what made her say it, but she glanced over at him, surprised yet again to see a small smile on Neville’s lips. </p><p> </p><p>“She was tough, but it was because she thought I had potential, or so she says.” He huffed a laugh, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands tightly together. She could see where the skin of his knuckles turned white, exposing scars she hadn’t noticed before. </p><p> </p><p>“Honestly it’s a tactic I use on my own students. It works better than you’d think. Just another in a long line of things to thank her for.” She didn’t know what to say to that, so she took another sip of her now-cold tea, looking anywhere but at him. </p><p> </p><p>Silence stretched between them, and Pansy finally slid the teacup back onto the tea tray. </p><p> </p><p>“I should be going.” </p><p> </p><p>“Right.” She wasn’t sure if it was relief that colored his voice, but she wouldn’t blame him if it was. </p><p> </p><p>She stood, busying herself with her handbag to keep from looking up at him as he hovered near her, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll take this to the caterers today, and then our tasting appointment is Saturday at two.” She was running out of things to fiddle with, and still didn’t want to look up. </p><p> </p><p>“Would you like me to pick you up or meet you there?” Neville still stood a respectable distance away, and Pansy moved towards the fireplace. Best to just go, no need to make it an event. </p><p> </p><p>“I have another appointment in Diagon at noon. I’ll just meet you there, if you’re fine with that.” She was slipping back into professional mode, and finally felt as if she had a single modicum of control over the situation. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright. I’ll see you Saturday afternoon, then.” </p><p> </p><p>She glanced at the mantle, hoping to find a clearly marked floo powder box, but all she found were a neat row of what appeared to be empty flower pots. She narrowed her eyes, but she wasn’t tall enough to see inside any of the pots from where she stood. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Sorry.” Neville stepped forward, taking the second flowerpot from the right and offering it to her. She took a handful of the powder, carefully avoiding his fingers curled over the rim and tossed it into the fire without another word to him. </p><p> </p><p>Calling out for her office, she stepped through. She immediately collapsed on a sofa on the other side, letting out a long sigh. This was not going to be easy. But then, nothing ever was for her. </p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Neville could see the wheels turning behind her gunmetal blue eyes as she took in the information. He took the opportunity to take in the picture she made. </p><p> </p><p>She looked so vulnerable. Tears streaked her face, and her jet black hair contrasted sharply against her creamy skin and the fluffy white bathrobe. He was glad she’d grown out the blunt bob of their school years; the curls that tumbled over her shoulders softened her. He also knew how silky her hair was after releasing it from numerous charms and pins, and he wanted to run his fingers through it some more. He also wondered off handedly what she’d do if he kissed the end of her upturned nose, but she was narrowing her eyes at him. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” </p><p> </p><p>“You’re beautiful,” he told her honestly. This seemed to catch her off guard and embarrass her, because she looked sharply away.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to do that,” she said quietly, and Neville leaned forward, trying to catch her eye again. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Do what?” </p><p> </p><p>He was still learning her, but this wasn’t a side he’d seen yet, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Her biting remarks, confident bravada, and even her nervous energy he could handle; this small, broken sadness was something else entirely. He reached up to push her hair away from her face, and she flinched. </p><p> </p><p>Neville froze. </p><p> </p><p>Lowering his hand slowly, he took a deep breath, pushing away the anger that her reaction lit within him. Anger wouldn’t help her right now. If anything, if he was correct about the implications, it would make things worse. To buy himself time, he rolled away from her, summoning a fresh pair of shorts from the bureau as he disappeared into the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Pansy saw him freeze, but couldn’t bring herself to look him in the face, afraid of what she’d find there. Anger? Pity? Indifference? All were awful for various reasons, but she was fairly certain she’d made the right choice when he got up without a word. </p><p> </p><p>The soft click of the latch was worse than if he’d slammed the door he’d summoned the robe from, and she felt fresh tears well up. <em>That’s it. He’s figured it out, and he’s gone for good now.</em> Clutching the bathrobe closer around her, she folded in on herself, silent sobs wracking her body and stealing her breath. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I knew it was too good to be true. It couldn’t last. It never did. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The One With the Unexpected Gestures</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neville gripped either side of the sink, breathing slowly through his nose. Bowing his head low, he closed his eyes, trying to push away the image of Pansy flinching away from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had hoped he would never feel this way again, but then he hadn’t counted on Pansy, either. When Hannah died, he thought that was it. And then his grandmother had pushed and pushed until he’d given in, agreeing to marry someone he didn’t know because he’d never love anyone like he’d loved Hannah. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least that was what he’d told himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reality was, unfortunately, much less black and white. And now he was fighting back waves of emotion over a girl that was so broken, and had been for so long that she didn’t even see it anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he’d made her a promise not even twelve hours prior that he would not let her suffer alone. Which meant right now, his emotions needed to take a backseat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fiddling with the tap, he splashed his face with cold water and took another deep breath as he dried his face with a towel. Then he took two small vials from the medicine cabinet, and opened the door to the bedroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His chest seized at the sight of her hunched over, shoulders shaking. Kicking himself for leaving her at all, he crossed the room quickly, dropping to his knees on the rug beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy?” This time he didn’t reach out for her, even though everything he was screamed at him to hold her. Setting the vials down carefully, he gripped the duvet, silently begging her to look at him. After a pregnant pause where she didn’t look up, he tried again. “Pansy? I need to know what you need.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This seemed to shock her into reacting, and she looked hesitantly up from her lap. Her eyes were red and puffy, and several strands of her only hair were stuck in the tracks left by her tears. Her hands held the bathrobe closed, her knuckles white around the fluffy material. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a mild pain potion and a calming draught here if you need them,” he indicated the two vials, one orange, one violet. “But please talk to me.” Her eyes finally met his, and he watched as fresh tears welled up, partially obscuring the deep blue eyes that made him wonder if she could see straight to his soul. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you were coming back,” she whispered hoarsely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville was going to tear a hole through the duvet if he held on any tighter, but he didn’t want to touch her if it was going to make things worse for her. Even still, disappointment and sadness washed over him at her words, and he caught his emotions on a tight rein, reminding himself yet again that she came first now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I chose my vows very carefully,” he said quietly. “And I wouldn’t ever leave you to fend for yourself like that.” Her tear filled eyes turned away from him again, and he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead into the corner of the mattress, hiding his dismay. After these months, he hoped that she would know him better than that. But then, if his suspicions were correct, it had nothing to do with <em>him, </em>and everything to do with precisely who he <em>wasn’t. </em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gods, she was broken and so sad and his chest ached with the effort it took to hold back. He was naturally an affectionate person, but it was obvious that Pansy wasn’t, and he wasn’t going to force </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>on her. He was quickly coming to regret taking her to bed so soon. She hadn’t been ready, and he was afraid he’d hurt her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where did you get this?” Her question was so quiet, he’d almost missed it. He snapped his head up, finding her fingering the violet potion bottle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “The medicine cabinet in the bathroom?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She made an impatient sound at the back of her throat, and relief trickled down his spine. That was the Pansy he knew. His grip on the comforter loosened incrementally as she picked up the bottle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you still hate potions, so you would have had to order it. You can’t get this formula at the apothecary.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was right, of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhh... Yeah. Mulpepper’s pointed me to an independent potioneer that does owl post orders. I got a few to keep in hand if you needed them.” Neville cocked his head, still confused at her focus on the calming draught. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But how did you know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You always have one in your handbag. I asked Daphne about it when she came ‘round to pick up the fabric swatches for their dresses. She said the standard ones make you sick and—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>months </span>
  </em>
  <span>ago.” Incredulity apparently trumped whatever other emotions warred inside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to have it if you needed it.” He still couldn’t fathom why this was such a big deal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything, I just—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she whispered, and her small, icy fingers wrapped hesitantly around his hand, still clutching the duvet. His eyes fell to their hands, her perfectly French manicured one resting atop his, and he was rudely reminded why they were there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannah’s nails were always painted bright colors. Neville had spent innumerable hours comparing them to various flowers. He could still see the look of delight that would grace her face when he’d show up with a bunch of flowers that perfectly matched her nails. Marigolds, violets, poppies… They’d all made appearances over the years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first time he’d done it, it was seventh year; what they would later come to refer to as Hell. She’d painted her nails bright, sunny yellow in an attempt to cheer herself up in the midst of the pain, suffering, and death, and Neville had noticed one night in the Room of Requirement. Then, he’d barely known her, but he couldn’t pass by the sunflowers without thinking of her and her endless optimism. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That had been only days before the battle. Afterwards, she and Susan Bones had bought the Leaky Cauldron from Tom, and they’d spent the better part of three years fixing it up. Neville often ended up there after long days of auror training and even longer days once he’d become a fully-fledged auror. Despite always being busy with the Leaky, she always had time to sit and chat, and she’d quickly become a close friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannah was so… soft. Soft spoken, and she’d award him with soft touches when she laughed. Her hair fell in thick waves to her shoulders, brushing her collar like a whisper. It was her eyes that did him in, though. Blue— not the watery, silvery blue like Luna’s; but bright, vibrant, nearly cornflower blue. But it wasn’t the color that drew him in. It was how expressive they were. He could very nearly always tell exactly how she was feeling at any given moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had taken Luna observing benignly that the wrackspurts were so interested in him because he was smitten one night to realize that he was indeed smitten by the Hufflepuff. Luna looked at him with a dreamy expression and suggested that he ask her out before Oliver Rivers got the chance, and he had, not an hour later. Her nails had been forget-me-not blue that night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their first date, the coral Ranunculus flowers matched her nail lacquer, and he’d spied them in her office at the Leaky for weeks under a stasis charm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their sixth date, he’d given her red roses, the scarlet flowers matching not just her nails, but her lips as well. That had been the first time they’d made love, and he hadn’t been able to walk past a rose bush without grinning for weeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the ones she sported most often were a pretty, delicate pink. He was relatively certain it was a ploy to receive her favorite flowers most often, because her eyes would widen with glee when he met her with pink peonies. He was only relatively certain though, because she’d died before he’d gotten to ask her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville looked up, and was momentarily startled by the blue eyes that peered back at him. They were deep, oceanic or cosmic, not the bright blue of a spring sky he’d been thinking of moments before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy blinked, and the image of Hannah disappeared like a puff of smoke. She watched him warily, and he looked away, silently berating himself for letting his mind wander to the women he’d loved and lost on his wedding night. His wedding night to a woman that needed his full attention at the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she said softly, and he looked back to her as she withdrew her hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have anything—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that you didn’t get this with Hannah,” she cut him off, looking ashamed. “I’m only here because she’s not.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville sucked in a breath, and bowed his head so she didn’t see the tears that sprung to his own eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not her. I’m nothing like her. I know that. But you’ve already been more kind and considerate of me than I ever could have hoped for and it’s only the first night.” Her laugh turned into a sob, and he looked up as her cold fingers wrapped around his left hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could give her back to you,” she went on, and a tear trickled down his cheek. “But I can’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A second tear followed the first, with a near silent patter on the duvet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By pureblood standards, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>own </span>
  </em>
  <span>me,” she whispered. “And yet you went out of your way </span>
  <em>
    <span>months ago</span>
  </em>
  <span> to find the calming draught that I use because the others make me violently ill. That was before we’d even…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She trailed off, and realized with a start she knew the exact day that he’d talked to Daphne. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was two months after the engagement, and they were trying to settle on a color scheme for the wedding party. Pansy had owled over a stack of fabric swatches, and was stubbornly refusing to go back to the castle to get them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“McGonagall is lurking. I don’t need her judging me for marrying her golden boy,” she huffed to Daphne over lunch. “You’re always telling me to delegate. Well here you are! This is me, delegating to you. Maid of Honor and all that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daphne scowled, but it melted into a sly smile. “Maid of Honor?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy rolled her eyes. “I mean, I suppose I could ask Tracey if you’re not—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tracey would forget your bloody bouquet and then sneak off with the best man.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which is why you’re going to Hogwarts today,” Pansy told her calmly, waving over the waitress for the check.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walked out of the restaurant arm in arm, and Pansy exhaled deeply as the cooling autumn air hit them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you told Neville why you don’t like going?” Daphne wasn’t going to let the subject drop. Even for a Slytherin, she was awfully persistent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gods no. He already thinks I’m a crazy bitch. I don’t need to confirm it.” Pansy scowled as fat raindrops began to hit the pavement, and cast a quick umbrella charm to ensure they stayed dry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daphne snorted, a distinctly unladylike sound that both of their mothers would be clutching their pearls over. “I really doubt that. He would have said no if he really had anything against you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy shot her friend an exasperated look. “Have you ever actually had a conversation with him? He’s so bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I swear to Salazar it wouldn’t surprise me if he apologizes to the plants he prunes. You think he’d really say no to his grandmother because I’m not the sweet little wife he expected to get?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daphne smirked. “They say the nice ones are always the nastiest in bed. And who knows. Maybe you’re underestimating him. It wouldn’t be the first time he showed up and </span>
  <em>
    <span>took charge</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Pansy smacked her arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fell quiet though, leaving Pansy to her thoughts. She didn’t think the man truly wanted to marry her— but then she didn’t think any man under the age of 40 would even consider her. She pushed away thoughts of her eighth year and McGonagall as they entered her office. She had a wedding that weekend and the mother of the bride was an utter nightmare. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She scarcely noticed when Daphne stepped through the floo, and when she returned an hour later, Pansy had forgotten all about the stack of fabric samples now clutched in her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daphne set them down on the corner of Pansy’s desk and gave her an odd look Pansy couldn’t decipher. Anxious fear laced through her veins. Had he been angry she hadn’t come herself? Was he calling it off? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Pansy hoped it came out sounding at least semi-normal, but she couldn’t be sure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not what I expected,” Daphne said carefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy huffed. “I told you that. What did he say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honestly not much. He had some questions about you, but…” She paused, obviously thinking hard. “He’s much more observant than I ever would have given him credit for. I think he’ll be good for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Observant? About </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She never got the answer, because just then her assistant had come in with a howler from the mother of the bride screeching about flower arrangements. Daphne had left not long after, and Pansy had forgotten all about it by their lunch the next week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was going to say “before we’d even become friends,” but the words died in her throat. Pansy looked hard at the man, kneeling beside the bed, his hands knotted in the duvet on either side of her. She fingered the ring on his left hand, the metal warm and smooth. Her hands felt like chips or ice against the warmth of his, and the weight of the day hit her like a hippogriff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we go to bed?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hated how small her voice sounded. What magic was it that kept her from using the same mask with him that she did with the rest of the world? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville lifted his head slowly, meeting her eyes. “Do you want to be left a—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Panic flashed through her, and her hand tightened unconsciously on his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Shh, it’s okay.” He flipped his hand to hold hers, swiping his thumb over her knuckles and pressing a quick kiss to the back of her shaking hand. “I’m just going to go make sure everything is locked up, okay? Bathroom’s through there, and I’ll be right back.” He indicated the door he’d come back through, and she nodded, releasing his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She watched as he stood and took his wand from the end of the bed, leaving her alone in the bedroom once more. She placed the two vials carefully on the nightstand, and headed for the bathroom. When she was done relieving herself and washing her face free of the heavy bridal makeup, she returned to find Neville sitting in bed, the covers pulled back on the other side, and a fresh glass of water next to the two vials. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hesitated before shedding the thick robe and exposing the satin night slip she’d pulled on in the bathroom. He’d seen her completely bare not an hour before, but somehow it seemed harder to expose herself now. He didn’t comment, just waited quietly as she draped the robe over the foot of the bed and slipped between the sheets. He’d applied another warming charm, and she was grateful, the warmth relaxing her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she was settled, Neville shifted beside her, shuffling down and turning out the lights with a flick of his wrist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laying there in the darkness, Pansy felt the exhaustion crash down even harder, but she reached out under the covers to find his hand. Had she been able to see his face in the dark, she would have seen the relief that relaxed his brow and jaw at the touch of her cold fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight,” he whispered, but she was already too far gone to hear him. Tomorrow they could talk. Tomorrow would be different. He closed his eyes, and soon joined her. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The One With the Engagement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pansy woke the next morning with a groan. Her hips and thighs ached, and there was a square of sunlight dangerously close to her face. This was England, it wasn’t supposed to be this bloody sunny. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She froze at the thought. No… no, this was Scotland. But it still wasn’t supposed to be this sunny. She held her breath, listening closely for the sound of a man in her bed— her new husband. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All she found was silence. Tentatively, she reached out under the covers, but only found the cool expanse of bed beside her. Rolling, she was confused to find herself disappointed to be alone in the big bed. Shoving the thought away to dissect later, she threw the covers back. Swinging her legs over the edge, they protested loudly when she attempted to stand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She winced, and remembered the potion Neville had offered her the night before. To her relief, it was still on the nightstand, a glass of water beside it. She swallowed the orange liquid quickly, and sighed as the ache of previously unused muscles faded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the robe from the end of the bed, she ventured out into the hallway. She still couldn’t hear him as she padded across the carpet, peaking in the living room and his office as she went and she reached the kitchen with baited breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was empty, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bit her lip, unsure of where he could be. She drifted closer to the window, the silhouette of the castle a dark shadow against the bright blue sky, wondering if he’d gone back. He’d said the potions master had agreed to tend the greenhouses for the next several weeks, to allow them time together as a newly married couple. Had he decided he’d rather have the company of his plans than her? Would he rather stay at the castle than in a bed with a woman he didn’t want? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Movement outside the window caught her eye and pulled her from her spiraling dread. Neville was on his knees, his back to her. Muggle blue jeans hugged the curve of his arse as he leaned over a flower bed, bright purple and yellow pansies bobbing around him in the light summer breeze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she watched, he sat back on his heels, and he lifted an arm to drag the back of his forearm across his forehead. He was shirtless, and beads of sweat were gathering across his shoulders, sparkling like little diamonds in the bright sunlight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her breath caught at the picture, at yet another thoughtful gesture by the man that should hate her, and yet… She couldn’t deny her attraction to the man, either. She hadn’t thought he was her type— she’d always assumed she’d get a tightly-buttoned aristocrat, and she’d adjusted her fantasies accordingly. But this…  She watched as he bent back over, manipulating the soil with strong, sure hands. There was something undeniably sexy about a man that worked with his hands, unafraid of dirt or hard work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She watched for a moment longer, before making her decision. She made a pot of coffee, her wand movements quick and precise with determination. Shedding the robe yet again, she thanked Merlin that Neville liked his privacy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come to mine for tea. We can talk about it then.” It hadn’t been a question, and his quiet command inexplicably calmed her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the day before the dinner with their families; the dinner that would  decide their future. Pansy stood in her office, arms crossed tightly across her chest to hide her shaking hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, because your house won’t be the first place the flobberworms from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prophet </span>
  </em>
  <span>will look for us?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville leaned casually against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets, looking totally unaffected. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bloody Gryffindors. They’re reckless and—“</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The wards around my house were professionally set as soon as I bought it. I got a lot of press in the early days after the war and when I was an Auror. I never changed them because I like my privacy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s sneer faltered, and she turned sharply away, facing the wall instead of the man that held her future in his palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They can try as hard as they like, but we could dance naked in the garden and they’d never even know we were there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy shot him a glare. “There will be no dancing naked </span>
  <em>
    <span>anywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she snapped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just said we </span>
  <em>
    <span>could, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not that we </span>
  <em>
    <span>would.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He looked vaguely amused at her vehement disapproval, but was otherwise unaffected by her bad temper. “Your floo has already been added to my home and office at Hogwarts. I’ll see you at four.” And with that, he turned and walked away, and Pansy was left pink-faced and utterly confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite her annoyance and trepidation, she floo’d to his home a few hours later, and was met by Neville. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said he was pleased to see her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought we could have tea in the garden,” he told her as he led the way down the hall. “For as much time as I spend on it, I don’t spend nearly enough time out here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tried to get a good look as they passed through the house, but had only gotten glimpses. The garden, though, was magnificent. Two big trees flanked the small area, a canopy of greenery shading a table and two chairs near the center. Plants that she recognized as Muggle and magical filled the planters, attractively arranged. It was beautiful and peaceful, and Pansy momentarily forgot the crowd of reporters that had driven her to owl him earlier that morning. The lush carpet of grass was still green, and she was almost sad that summer was nearing its end and the garden would fall into dormancy soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville gestured to a chair, and Pansy took a seat, balancing her handbag on her knees, ankles crossed primly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Relax,” he told her, and she bristled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am relaxed,” she bit out, and he raised an eyebrow at her across the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should have made chamomile, then.” He indicated the teapot, and she shook her head, glaring at the picture perfect picket fence behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. I just— I’ve quite liked not being the focus of the public’s ire recently.” She looked away, her throat tightening. “You’re the darling Gryffindor that saved the world and I’m… Well, me. Your fans are not going to like it if you propose.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t mention the anti-fan mail had already begun, and there wasn't even a formal agreement or engagement yet. Somehow <em>The Daily Prophet </em>had caught wind of their tentative courting, and Pansy had shown up to her office to hoards of press asking if she was trying to steal the heart of the Serpent Slayer, or if she was just using him. Within hours, she'd gotten howlers and letters condemning her for even considering sullying his name. She'd really only reached out to him once her assistant had managed to <em>incendio </em>the lot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I do, I plan on releasing a very carefully worded statement and request for privacy. I won’t tolerate you being harassed, Pansy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t help the look of shock that followed his firm statement. He’d said </span>
  <em>
    <span>when, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not </span>
  <em>
    <span>if. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d already made up his mind. But it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. Because the angry public was right. He was Neville Longbottom, the Serpent Slayer, and she was the Slytherin that tried to hand over The Chosen One to the Dark Lord. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she’d yet to live it down. She had built a name for herself, true, but that moment, that choice, would forever darken her reputation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked at the man before her in the dappled afternoon light, and wondered what would happen when their engagement was announced, and then broken. Guilt twisted her insides, and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze, lest she saw the pity she despised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said that wrong. I’m sorry.” Pansy looked back to him to find him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Said what wrong?” Pansy felt so off kilter around this man, and this was the first glimpse she’d gotten of the uncertain boy she’d known from school. It was comforting, in a way. They’d both changed so much, but deep down, they were still the children that had once been pitted against each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I ask you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if you say yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’ll release a statement.” He was fidgeting with his napkin, not looking up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It sounded so ludicrous that she couldn’t stop the harsh laugh that escaped her. “If I say yes?” Do you honestly think I could refuse even if I wanted to?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to say no?” Neville looked up, and met her eye without flinching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would you want me to say yes?” Pansy couldn’t hold his even gaze, and she turned her attention to a flutterby bush that waved as if a gentle wind rustled its leaves. “I’m not what you wanted in a wife.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sound very confident that you know what I want,” he said quietly.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you wouldn’t want me.” Pansy whispered, and gripped her handbag tighter, fighting the urge to flee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m still rubbish at potions. I tend to fall into foul moods when I don’t eat. I have to be reminded to get haircuts and I don’t like crowds. I get depressed and there are times I don’t want to talk to anyone. I bottle up my emotions and I can be a right stubborn arse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sound like you’re trying to talk me out of saying yes,” Pansy met his eyes again, and the openness in his hazel eyes took her breath away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you should know what you’d be saying yes to.” He shifted again, and opened his mouth, but snapped it shut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But there’s something else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter right now.” He rubbed his open palm down the outside of his thigh, as if he was scrubbing it clean on the denim. “It’s not a deal breaker for me. But I wouldn't ask if I wasn't serious. I don't take marriage lightly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy closed her eyes, trying to drum up the courage to lay herself bare as he had. “I don’t have much of a filter. I have a lot of sharp edges and I don’t trust anyone. I overthink everything. I don’t like relying on people, and I’m a snob when it comes to coffee.” She lowered her voice a bit. “I’m an anxious mess a lot of the time, but hardly anyone knows.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She kept her eyes on her hands, and jumped when he appeared at her side. He held his hand out to her, and she stared at it for a long moment before taking it, setting her handbag aside. He guided her to her feet, and they stood facing each other, closer than she’d been to anyone that wasn’t her mother or Daphne in a very long time. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, even with his head bowed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just me and you, without thinking of what’s expected or what your parents want, would you want to marry me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy blinked, her heart pounding. And then slowly, inexplicably, she nodded. Looking up at him in the late afternoon sunlight, she got the distinct feeling that he was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It nearly overwhelmed her, and she nearly missed him saying, “I need to hear you, Pansy. Would you want to marry me?” The commanding edge to his voice surprised her, but it wasn’t harsh. Contrary to what she expected, yet again it calmed and focused her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her voice was surprisingly strong when she answered. “Yes, I want to marry you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His shy smile at her declaration was everything in that moment, and more so when he unexpectedly sank down to one knee, pulling a small box from the pocket of his Muggle blue jeans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then, Pansy Parkinson, would you do me the honor of being my wife?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s vision narrowed until all she could see was his face, and she was fairly certain it was only the soft pressure of his hand cradling hers that kept her upright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She must have nodded or said yes, because then he was sliding a ring onto her finger, and her vision narrowed even more, until all she could see was the brilliant opal flanked by emeralds, his thumb swiping softly over her knuckles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then his hand was sliding up her arm, cradling her elbow, and his other hand came up to cup her cheek, and tilting her head back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I kiss you?”  Once again, she was taken aback by his question. Her surprise must’ve shown, because he smiled gently. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want or agree to. I—“ He stopped, shaking his head. “I’m not like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Relief flooded through her, but like everything else, she knew it wouldn’t last. But she held onto it anyway. “Please?”   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened, and she chalked it up to the soft tone that he’d probably never heard from her before. Be he conceded, leaning down and kissing her just as gently as she would have assumed the reserved man would. Soft and sweet, she could taste mint on his lips. He was unassuming, capturing her bottom lip and nipping lightly until she grew bolder and brushed the seam of his lips with her tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand slipped from her jaw into her hair, the other wrapping firmly around her waist. A soft sigh left her, and he deepened the kiss. Her hands slid down his chest and around his trim waist to pull him closer even as she melted into his hold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was lost to the kiss, a passion she didn’t know the man could possess seeping through and captivating her. Her skin felt like it was on fire where he touched her, his lips moving skillfully against hers, his tongue exploring her own. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Merlin</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Draco and Marcus were nothing like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tentatively moving her hand back up the hard planes of his abdomen and chest, she buried her fingers in his thick hair just above the nape of his neck. He moaned his approval, and she whimpered as his hand splayed over the small of her back, pulling her closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A child shrieked somewhere behind her, and she jumped, breaking the kiss. Snatching her hands back and twisting, she caught sight of a young mother with two children on the street two houses down. A small girl, four or five if Pansy had to guess, jumped in a puddle, shrieking again in delight, her pigtails flailing wildly. The mother held a little boy, still too young to be classified as a toddler, tightly in her arms while admonishing the little girl for getting her socks wet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville still held her close, but seemed to understand the spell was broken. “They can’t see us,” he breathed into her hair, reluctantly letting his hands fall away from her back and neck. “But Lisa and Anthony are good people. They were in our year, both in Ravenclaw. Their kids are sweet. They’ve invited me to dinner a few times.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy nodded, still watching the woman and children. It was indeed Lisa Turpin, though it sounded like it was Lisa Goldstein now. She turned back slowly to face Neville, though she was sure her face was flushed and her hair a mess from his hands. Uncertainty flashed through her, but he smiled rather smugly as he reached up and smoothed a curl away from her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any regrets yet?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The One with the Notification</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just wanted to say a quick thank you for the great support I’ve had with this story! I love Neville and Pansy so much, and it’s been so fun exploring their dynamic. There’s so much more to come!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neville shifted another handful of soil, the familiar sensations soothing. Despite the early hour and cool early June morning, the exertion of replanting an entire planter had him sweating, and he needed to take a break for breakfast soon. Maybe he could surprise Pansy with breakfast in bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d woken early, wrapped around the witch like he had with Hannah so many times. Opening his eyes to the inky curls instead of blond strands had taken his breath away, but the ache in his chest had lessened when he’d tried to move, and she just held on tighter. It reassured him that somewhere deep in her subconscious, she trusted him, maybe even wanted him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was lost in thought, but his years of training meant he didn’t miss the soft creak of the back door. Sitting back on his heels, he pushed his hair out of his face with the back of his arm, looking back to find Pansy approaching with two coffee cups in hand. He did a double take, though, when he realized she was still wearing the slip from the night before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soft lilac silk that looked like quicksilver as she moved fell to mid thigh, hugging her curves, and did absolutely nothing to hide the way her nipples tightened as the cool morning air washed over her. Her hair was mussed, not the perfectly shaped curls that made her preferred hairstyle, and no makeup made her look younger, softer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’d looked bloody gorgeous the day before, all made up and polished, but he greatly preferred her this way. He brushed his hands clear of most of the dirt, retrieving his wand and charming them the rest of the way clean as she drew closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” she said with a small smile, offering a cup to him. He took it, doing everything he could not to let his jaw hang slack as he stood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning to you too,” he finally choked out, his eyes lingering a little too long on the plunging neckline and her nipples pressing against the silk. His eyes fell to the smirk on her lips, and he had no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing when she’d stepped out into the garden in nothing else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stepped closer, and his cock twitched hopefully in his trousers. Raising up on her toes, she kissed his cheek, her lips lingering. Neville shifted experimentally, kissing the corner of her mouth, and was pleased when she responded, turning into his kiss rather than away from it. His free hand came up automatically to brush along the curve of her waist, and she shivered under his light touch. She was so much more responsive than he’d ever expected from the girl he’d once thought was callus and cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’d you sleep?” Neville broke the kiss somewhat reluctantly. They needed to talk before anything more happened, but he didn’t want to rush, either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy settled back, cradling her steaming cup in her hands.“Better than expected, if I’m to be honest.” She looked a little uncertain, so Neville gestured to the table still sitting in the center of the garden. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sat facing each other as they had so many times before, but this time it felt different. Maybe it was because the pressure of an impending wedding was gone, or because the night before they’d offered each other more than either had expected. Or maybe it was because they were both half naked. Whatever the reason, Neville was grateful she didn’t look ready to flee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville took a sip of coffee, and groaned. “I’m never going to be able to go back to the house-elf’s coffee after this!” Pansy couldn’t hide her pleasure at the veiled compliment, a dimple along with her genuine smile appearing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I guess luckily for you, you won’t have to,” she told him, fighting the </span>
  <span>smile. “Or unluckily, I suppose it depends on how you feel about being stuck with me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville bit down on the reflex to correct her, instead settling for a small smile and a soft, “Lucky me, then.” He took another sip, and leaned back in his chair, his back protesting after leaning over the flowerbed for so long. “I didn’t think you were much of a morning person,” he mused, thinking back to Daphne’s warning to tread carefully before 10 am. It was only 8:30.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not,” she said with a laugh, and lifted her cup. “I’m a coffee person, though.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was going to make breakfast, but I thought I had a bit more time,” he admitted, and she just shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can pull something together if you have more to do out here.” Her eyes swept over the garden, but Neville couldn’t tear his eyes from her profile, silhouetted against the greenery behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The garden can wait,” he told her softly, and her eyes snapped back to his. She met his gaze, cocking her head curiously. She opened her mouth, as if she was going to ask a question, but stopped herself, snapped her mouth closed and looked down at her coffee cup instead. Neville knew from experience that silence was one of the best ways to encourage talking, so he stayed quiet until she glanced up at him through lowered lashes several long minutes and most of his coffee later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When did you decide I wasn’t a soulless bitch hell-bent on ruining the lives of everyone I came into contact with?” Pansy asked it so quietly he wondered if she really wanted the answer, but Neville sighed, and put his cup down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never thought any of that. Not really. But you definitely hit a soft spot when your dad died.” He watched carefully as she froze. “We were assigned a lot of notifications those first few months. But that one…” He swallowed hard, and lay his arm over the table between them, showing her a series of tiny, stark white scars contrasting against the tan skin of his forearm. “It stayed with me. I’ve never forgotten it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy had been in transfiguration when Professor Sinistra had retrieved her. Having your head of house pull you out of class was never a good thing, but Pansy hadn’t realized how bad it was until she stepped into the Headmistress’s office, and saw the scarlet robes that denoted the Auror force. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t recognize either of them at first glance, but she was more focused on McGonagall, behind the giant desk. The woman’s normally severe expression practically dripped pity, and Pansy was already shaking her head when the older, shorter wizard began to speak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Pansy Parkinson, we regret to inform you of the death of Maynard B. Parkinson. Unfortunately we were unable to locate your mother, and as his oldest living child—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of his words were drowned out by a heart-wrenching scream. “No!” She was ready to throw herself at the Auror, but the taller one was faster, and clamped his arms around her torso, holding her in place. She fought against his hold, tearing at his arms with her nails while screaming that he was lying, that her father couldn’t be dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She screamed and screamed until her voice gave out, and she finally stopped fighting the arms around her when her legs wouldn’t hold her upright any longer. The Auror behind her lowered her gently to the ground, kneeling with her, and she curled her arms around his, holding on for dear life as she sobbed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was some time before Sinistra and Pomfrey pried her free from the Auror, though he hadn’t let them try until the tears stopped flowing, despite his bleeding arm and torn robes. When she’d come to herself enough to look for the aurors, they’d both gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was you?” Disbelief flooded through her. He nodded solemnly, and she looked sharply away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you recognized me… I considered using magic and staying clear, but in that moment, you weren’t the girl from school that I couldn’t stand. You were just someone’s daughter. You were hurting and I couldn’t bear not to…” he cleared his throat. “You needed someone. Anyone. So I held onto you for as long as I could, and then I went home and cried.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy had seen him cry, in school. But she couldn’t imagine the man across from her— the man he’d grown into— crying. Not just crying, but crying for </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never thought we’d be here,” he gestured between the two of them, “but you changed me for the better that day. And when Gran told me that you were the one that she thought would make the best match, I was curious.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He fingered the handle of his coffee cup, and Pansy warred with herself. She thought she should be angry, betrayed that he’d had nearly a year and hadn’t told her that he’d been witness to one of the worst moments of her life. Instead though, she was relieved. Relieved that she finally knew who had given her that kindness when she most needed it, relieved that her new husband knew that when she loved, she loved fiercely, but most of all, relieved that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, I changed you?” Pansy held her breath as he considered her question, dread filling her stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You reminded me that we’re really not all that different. You’re a daughter as much as I’m a son, and we both lost so much to that bloody war. I’d begin to let myself forget that beneath it all, we’re all human. You… you reminded me that we’ve all suffered. If it had been anyone beside me in that room, you would have carried your pain alone. I couldn’t stomach that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You never asked why I did it.” She swallowed hard. “Tried to hand Potter over before the battle, I mean.” She couldn’t look at him, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. Had the bonding charm also made her more susceptible to tears? She felt as if she’d done nothing else but cry since stepping foot in the house the night before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I found out later that Voldemort had your father at that point. I took a guess that you thought handing Harry over was your best chance at getting him back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flinched at the name and tears spilled over because he’d hit the nail on the head. Pansy would have done anything to get her father back, and she’d failed at every turn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t fault you for it. If I thought handing over someone I’d hated for 7 years would give me my parents back, I’d probably have done much worse than what you did.” She heard the pain in his voice as he admitted the darkest part of his soul, but it was the extended hand on the table that broke the dam completely. Tears rushed out in a torrent, and she surprised herself by taking his proffered hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His grip was strong and steady, and for once it didn’t feel as if her fear and guilt and overwhelming sadness were going to drown her. He was a rock in the storm, and she feared the moment he would let go and set her adrift, alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She squeezed her eyes shut, not realizing that she’d leaned over their clasped hands in her desperation for his steady strength. She jumped then, when he brushed her hair from her face, and his free arm came  around her, standing much closer than she realized. She leaned into him, her cheek coming to rest against his stomach as he stroked her hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Half of her felt as if she was reliving that moment in McGonagall’s office. Her chest ached with the grief that had never quite left her, but this time, she leaned into his hold, grateful that she wasn’t alone in her mourning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” he whispered from far above her. “I’ve got you.” His voice was low and rough, his strokes gentle but firm. He was giving her permission to weep for her loss, sheltering her from the anguish that was suffering in silence, suffering </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her breathing eventually slowed, syncing with his even breaths and slowly loosened her grip on his hand before finally pulling away. Shame burned deep in her chest when her cheek stuck to his skin. Salty residue from her tears mixed with the sweat that had dried coated their skin, but he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to take everything in stride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least that was what she was thinking until he swore loudly, and tore his hand from hers, placing himself squarely between herself and the garden gate. Shifting slightly, she peered around his waist to find a witch with long blond hair and an armful of what looked like orange radishes coming through the gate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My wands in the kitchen,” she hissed, low enough for only him to hear. He responded by summoning a plaid button down shirt she hadn’t noticed before from a table beside the back door. She shrugged it on, careful today stay behind Neville as the witch drew closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was pulling it closed when Neville spoke up. “Hullo, Luna. What are you doing here?” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ok I just love them. But who just shows up the morning after someone’s wedding?! Luna. Luna does. Don’t get mad at me, she did it herself, I’m just the messenger.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The One With the Unexpected Visitor (and Revelations)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neville angled himself carefully between his best friend and his new wife, attempting to give Pansy a moment to prepare herself. He wasn’t sure what could have possessed Luna to visit this early the morning after their wedding, but he was suddenly wishing he and Pansy had opted to visit the continent instead of staying home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Luna said brightly. “Hello, Pansy. I didn’t think you’d be up yet. Draco said you weren’t a morning person either.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy let out an indignant huff. “As if he’s any better,” she spat, leaning around Neville to glare at Luna. Her eyes were still red, but her fire was back as Luna spoke about one of her best friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s fine once he’s had sex and breakfast,” Luna said with a dreamy smile. “Though it might take some time to decide which of those is the better cure.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s strangled cry was drowned out by Neville’s bark of, “Luna!” It was then that he realized that she was indeed still wearing the same sage-green bridesmaid dress that she’d been wearing for the wedding the day before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy was still sputtering. “But you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>married!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Rolf was there too, of course,” Luna smiled gently, as if it was perfectly obvious. “He quite likes to watch and Draco is quite stunning in bed, isn’t he?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HOW WOULD I KNOW?” Pansy’s degree of shock and dismay translated almost directly into the decibel level of her screeching, and Luna was a pro at getting under her skin. Pansy had also latched onto him, and was currently leaving imprints of her nails across his right hip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville dragged a hand over his face. This was decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>how he’d imagined the morning after his wedding. They really should have opted for the trip to Italy that Gran had suggested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh that’s right!” Luna looked delighted, and set the box of dirigible plums down on the table. “You were a virgin! I’m sure Neville was excellent, I—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“LUNA!” He was much more forceful this time, drawing her attention. “Now is not the time,” he said firmly, and understanding dawned in her pale blue eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’ve made you uncomfortable again,” she said sincerely, her face falling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville sighed, scrubbing his right palm down the outside of his thigh before prying Pansy’s hand free of his hip flexors. He laced their fingers together to keep her in place behind him, and she drew a bit closer. He could feel the cool buttons of his shirt she wore against the still-bare skin of his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luna, did you need something?” Neville was desperate for this not to turn into the same type of ordeal that had occurred at her birthday party in February. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville had been nervous to bring Pansy to a full gathering of his friends at the Leaky Cauldron, but he’d been pleasantly surprised at how well it had been going. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While he could tell Pansy was uncomfortable, she hadn’t made any biting remarks or tried to make an excuse to leave, either. She surprised him by staying close, always close enough for him to reach out and touch her, though he hadn’t tried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d been chatting with Lisa and Anthony when a face Neville had long forgotten about appeared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d do better for yourself, Longbottom. The daughter of a Death Eater, though? That’s just sad.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zacharias Smith was holding a glass of firewhiskey and spotted the same haughty expression from years before. Pansy stiffened, and Neville turned slowly, looking him up and down. He’d gained weight over the years, probably from his habit of overindulgence and lack of quidditch, along with his sentient job with Gringotts. He was well dressed, though, and Neville got the impression his ego was every bit as overinflated as it had been in school.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her father wasn’t a Death Eater, and don’t appreciate your commentary on my choices, Smith. So if you’ll excuse us,” Neville turned away, pulling Pansy into his side. She didn’t fight him, but she didn’t relax, either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Supporter, Death Eater, same difference,” Zacharias sneered. “He got what was coming to him, though. So did you agree to it for the money or just because she’s got a mighty fine arse?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville stopped dead in his tracks, only vaguely aware of Pansy’s wide eyes and whispers of “dont! He’s not worth it!” He turned back slowly, and several onlookers recoiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are no longer welcome here, Smith. I suggest you leave. Now.” He made sure his tone left no room for argument, but the former Hufflepuff scoffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that’s your choice, Longbottom.” His cocky grin had Neville seeing red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, seeing as I retain half ownership of this establishment, it is my choice. And you’ve just been banned.” Neville was struggling to hold himself together. Hannah had left her share of the Leaky to him, but it wasn’t something he brought up. He’d agreed to be a silent partner with Susan, and had left all the decision making to her. Until now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zacharias’s grin faded into another sneer, and he knocked the rest of his drink back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You only have it because Hannah’s dead,” he spat, and that was the last straw. Neville saw everything in perfect clarity, from Zacharias’s hate-filled glare, to Lisa, Anthony, and Susan’s looks of shock, to Harry and Ron quickly approaching, to Pansy’s dismay as Neville stepped carefully away from her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before anyone could stop him, he pulled back, and punched Zacharias square in the jaw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blow sent the heavy-set man flying backwards into a table, and after a few initial shrieks from the women whose drinks were now in their laps, the room went silent. Neville straightened, and looked calmly around. Harry and Ron approached him carefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, mate?” Ron’s eyes were wide, and Harry had a tight grip on his wand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Susan, Smith earned himself a lifetime ban. He’ll need to be escorted off the premises.” As if on cue, Zacharias groaned, and there was a shuffle as he attempted to right himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing Ron and Harry, he pointed to Neville. “I want him arrested! An unprovoked attack on an unarmed—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have your wand?” Harry asked calmly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I have my bloody wand,” Zacharias snapped, brandishing it at the three men. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then you weren’t unarmed and as the landlord of this establishment, he’s well within his right to ask you to leave. Also, we’re off duty. Cheers!” Harry raised a beer to him, and took a deep swig. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zacharias began to protest, but a sharp look from Neville silenced him again. Harry and Ron turned away from him as he slid from the table unsteadily, and chatter began to fill the pub again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m assuming you had a good reason for that, mate,” Harry said in a low voice as they moved towards the bar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He insulted my fiancée repeatedly, and then brought Hannah into it.” Neville growled through his teeth, and Ron let out a low whistle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In that case, cheers on not cursing the hell out of him.” The redhead man took a fresh pint from the barkeep, and after a nod to Pansy, went back to where Hermione, Ginny, and George sat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need someone to look at your hand?” Harry had evidently seen him flinch when he’d tried to flatten his palm against his thigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got it,” Pansy told him, avoiding his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Harry said carefully, and followed his friend back through the crowd. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m sor—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Pansy interjected, motioning for two fresh drinks. Once she had both glasses in hand, she led them to a deserted corner booth. She slid in, and patted the seat next to her, indicating Neville should sit beside her. He took the seat, and winced when Pansy prodded carefully at his hand, though her perpetually freezing fingers felt nice against his rapidly-swelling hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to do that,” she said quietly, continuing her examination without looking up. “But you don’t have to be sorry, either. What he said was over the line.” Before he could respond, she prodded his hand with her wand, and his bones cracked painfully back into place, making his eyes water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smoothed her thumbs over his hand, appearing to any onlookers that she was still assessing his hand. But he knew better, and his throat tightened at her subtle affection. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. She finally met his eyes again, a small smile on her lips, but two figures joined them at the table before they could say anything more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy released his hand, reaching for her gin and tonic, while Neville stretched his hand experimentally. Finding it pain free, he took the glass of Ogden’s she’d brought for him, and rose it to the couple across from them.  “Happy birthday, Luna.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luna beamed at him. “Thank you. Was punching Zacharias my gift?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville snorted. “No, but I’m glad it didn’t ruin your day. How are you, Rolf?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luna’s husband of not quite a year was a quiet bloke, but he very obviously adored Luna. She could lead the man around on a leash if she truly wanted, but Neville tried his hardest not to let his thoughts linger there. He knew far too much as it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doing well, thanks.” He gave them a smile, ruffling his sandy hair with one hand before settling it around Luna’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shout from the doorway drew their attention, and they saw Zacharias in a heated exchange with Susan, gesturing angrily at their table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just leave it,” he told Pansy, perhaps a hair more forcefully than was strictly necessary. Nevertheless, she immediately dropped her eyes and relaxed her shoulders, leaning a little closer to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think Pansy likes your Dom voice more than Hannah did,” Luna said, smiling benignly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville choked on his drink, and Pansy looked up slowly to face the girl, blood draining from her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luna!” Neville gasped, still coughing. Pansy turned incredulous eyes back to Neville, the blood rushing back to stain her cheeks a deep crimson. “Pansy, I—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luna, dear, I think we should leave them to discuss this on their own,” Rolf interjected, urging Luna to slide from the booth. Luna started to object, but with a whisper in her ear, Rolf silenced her, and she stood without further argument. Neville waited until they disappeared into the crowd before chancing a look back at Pansy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Somehow I feel like this is not a discussion to have in public,” she hissed, her cheeks still red. Neville swallowed hard, and nodded, his own face on fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stayed long enough to sing happy birthday and watch Luna blow out 25 candles with gusto before making their rounds to say goodnight. Leaving the Leaky Cauldron, Neville’s stomach was in knots. He hadn’t finished his drink, knowing this conversation would be hard enough, and he wasn’t going to have it impaired. Pansy had either thought along the same lines or simply lost all desire, because he’d watched as the ice melted slowly in her glass without her taking so much as another sip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparating them to her flat, Neville steeled himself for what was to come. She let them in, shedding her coat and taking his without a word. She led him into the living room and motioned to the sofa, taking an armchair across from it for herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… were you planning on telling me, or was this something you were going to keep locked up until after the wedding?” Pansy’s voice was harsh, and Neville sighed. This wasn’t how he’d wanted this discussion to come about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want it to change your perception of me. There are a lot of misconceptions about the lifest—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and lying to me was the better alternative?” Pansy crossed her arms tightly, glaring at a spot on the floor somewhere to the left of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t lie, Pansy. I am fully prepared to give it up if it’s not something you’re comfortable with. But I wanted you to really know me before I brought it up.” Neville braced his elbows on his knees, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But using your “Dom voice” she made air quotes as she said it like a disease, “on me is fine?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like that. I use the same tone with students. You really think I would make you do anything—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh so now I’m one of your students?” He had quickly learned she jumped to anger when feeling scared or uncertain, and he was fairly certain that she was drowning in both emotions at the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say that,” he told her calmly, clasping his hands in front of him. But I need you to try to understand that this doesn’t change anything. I would never do anything you didn’t want or ask for. BDSM is more than whips and ropes. It’s about communication and trust. It’s providing what is needed, not just sexually and physically, but emotionally.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She scoffed, but didn’t look at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Its understandable that you’re upset that it was sprung on you like that. Luna doesn’t always think before she speaks. But I will answer any questions you have. I promise I won’t hide anything from you, I just ask you to keep an open mind and remember that I’m still me. But in the end, I am willing to walk away from it. If despite that, you want to end the engagement, I will understand that too.” He watched her expression carefully, seeing the tiny changes that most would miss. She shifted from angry to confused to scared, all within the space of moments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally her expression settled on resigned, and she sighed, pressing the heel of her hand to the center of her forehead as if she was trying to stave off a headache. “Okay.” Her voice was small, but steady. She paused, and then shook her head. “I don’t even know where to start.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luna, did you need something?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She blinked at him rather owlishly, as if she was confused by the question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy and I aren’t quite ready for visitors,” he prodded, and she nodded solemnly. Sometimes Neville wished he was a legilimens, just to hope to understand her because she looked perfectly serious when she patted the box before her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I brought you these. They've been quite helpful to a number of newlyweds in accepting the changes that come with marriage.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er… Thank you, Luna.” Neville could practically feel the disbelief rolling off Pansy in waves, and he squeezed her hand, hoping she’d stay quiet from her place hidden behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome. They’re also lovely in preserves. Like apricot.” She smiled warmly, and Neville felt a surge of affect for her. She was unpredictable and didn’t make sense to most, but her intentions were always pure. “But if you’ll excuse me, I should be getting back to Draco and Rolf. They were very cozy when I left, and I don’t want to miss the fun. Draco looks so nice in knots.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy emitted a strangled sound, but Luna was already retreating across the garden. She disaperated just outside the front gate, and Neville released Pansy’s hand to turn to face her. She was still staring warily at the spot that Luna had disappeared from, as if she didn’t trust she had really gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to regret this, but what did she mean about Draco in knots?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville bit down on a laugh, taking a moment to compose himself before answering. “Rolf is quite proficient in shibari. They’ve invited me a few times but I generally prefer doing the tying rather than being tied up.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s jaw dropped, and Neville gave her a swift kiss to the top of her head. “Ready for breakfast?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The One With the Worst Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please note this was written at 2 am after an hour of sleep. There may be mistakes. Also I’m sorry, any complaints about this chapter can be directed at the members of Hermione’s Nook on Facebook. (Kidding, they’re the best, they’re just the ones that planted this idea so firmly I literally couldn’t sleep until it was written.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After ten months, Pansy still couldn’t fathom how Neville, potion destroyer extraordinaire, was such a proficient cook. In all reality, they were much the same. Add ingredients in the correct order, add heat, stir as necessary, all to produce a predictable outcome. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She also found she didn’t much care that he avoided a cauldron at all costs as long as he kept her supplied with crêpes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After Luna’s surprise visit, they’d returned to the kitchen and after pouring them fresh coffee, she’d been banished to the table to watch as Neville whipped together a full breakfast without so much as breaking a sweat. She still wore his shirt over her slip, while he was still shirtless, his jeans hugging his hips in a way that she was entirely certain was entirely indecent. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cradling her coffee cup, she watched him move, sure and confident around the kitchen. It was moments like this that she still couldn’t believe this man was the same forgetful, accident-prone boy from their youth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I dare ask what’s going on in that brain of yours?” His teasing jarred her from thoughts of the round-faced boy chasing after a toad on the Hogwarts Express on their way to Hogwarts for the first time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t, but I hear you lot are all brave and reckless, where I’m all about self preservation,” she prodded, earning herself a grin from Neville as he slid a fresh crêpe in front of her. “But I’ll spare you. I was wondering where you learned to make crepes like this. They’re probably the best I’ve ever had.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad’s were better, but they’re alright.” He smiled, but she didn’t miss the flash of sadness in his hazel eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was late March, and she’d invited him over for a quiet night in. They’d settled on popcorn in front of the fire, their attempt in staving off the dreary, rainy weather. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me something nobody else knows about you.” Pansy sat with her back to the arm of the sofa, one leg tucked under her, the other extended out over the cushions. Neville set the bowl of popcorn between them, scooting closer and lifting her leg to drape across his knees. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nobody?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“well, something you haven’t told anyone else.” Pansy tried not to shudder under the warmth of his hand over her ankle. It was an intimacy she hadn’t experienced before, but it was as natural as breathing to him. The closest she’s gotten was Draco’s head in her lap while she played with his hair, but this was different. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was conservative with her touches, keeping them to a minimum, especially in public. He was constantly reaching for her, as if she’d disappear if he let go for too long. Her biggest concern was her lack of objection to his physicality. She was beginning to crave the gentle hand on her back as he guided her through a crowded room or threw his arm across the back of her chair, his fingertips skimming the back of her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His thumb swept across her exposed skin as he thought, his eyebrows drawing together, the corners of his mouth curving into a frown. “Well,” he said slowly, his thumb working in small circles. “The biggest one I can think of is that I still remember what happened to my parents.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pansy felt the blood drain from her face, icy dread filling her veins as he stared into the depths of the fire. This hadn’t been what she’d expected, but he never did precisely what she thought he would. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was the week after my fifth birthday. People hear that they were tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange and just kind of automatically assume it was before he fell the first time… They forget that the Death Eaters had to be tracked down afterwards. It wasn’t like the Battle, where they were grouped together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My parents were aurors, but nobody thought the Death Eaters would be bold enough to attack any of them at home. I wish they’d been right.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pansy felt frozen, horrified at the implications of what he was telling her. His thumb still traced little circles over her ankle as he spoke, so gentle despite the anger and sadness playing across his face. She couldn’t breathe, and her knuckles were turning white, clutched around the small throw blanket across her lap. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I remember my mum crying as she handed me a sweet. She told me to hide in the closet of their bedroom, and not to come out or make a sound, no matter what. If I was good, she’d give me another sweet. She said she was going to come with Dad… I didn’t realize it at the time but it was heavily warded, a sort of safe room she’d made in case they needed it. They never made it.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville’s lip trembled, and a tear trickled down his face, quickly followed by another. Invisible bands of steel kept Pansy from taking a breath, or even moving. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was quiet at first. So, so quiet. And then her magic began to fail.” Neville’s voice cracked. ”I could hear her screaming. They made Dad watch. He begged for them to let her go... Offered himself in her stead.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>More tears slid down his cheeks, but he made no move to brush them away. He still stared into the fire, and Pansy knew he may physically be with her, but mentally, he was miles and years away. She ached to reach out, to say something to comfort him, but it felt as if his words had put a body-bind on her; she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It went on for hours. It felt like days. I just wanted Mum, she said she’d come. She always kept her word. Her magic had been failing, but somehow she held on long enough to keep me locked in and hidden. I remember the Death Eaters laughing as they left… and then it was so quiet again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The collar of his shirt was damp where his tears soaked into it, and still Pansy couldn’t move, or say a word. His thumb had finally stilled on her leg as his shoulders began to shake. It took him several moments before he could speak again, his voice strangled with emotion. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Once they were gone, Mum’s magic gave out completely. I found them in the living room, all the furniture moved around with them in the middle. Dad couldn’t move, he cried when I touched him. Mum… Mum didn’t even react to me until I gave her my sweet wrapper.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville finally reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding onto her, wiping some of the tears free. He let out a broken chuckle, and she thought her heart being ripped from her chest would hurt less. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was her rule. If I wanted another, I had to give her the wrapper. I think it was her way of making sure I didn’t leave them all over the house or eat too many… But she took it, and just stared at it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finally closed his eyes, more tears leaking from beneath his lids. She couldn’t imagine how he carried it, the weight and pain of hearing his parents tortured until their minds shattered and their magic failed. He’d only been five. Barely five. Still practically a baby. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They found us, later the next morning when they didn’t report to work. I remember a witch crying, trying to get me to let go of Mum. She handed me the sweet wrapper back, and that’s when I finally let go. They took me straight to Gran’s… The next time I saw my parents, they were at St Mungo’s and didn’t know who I was.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pansy moved the untouched bowl of popcorn, and gently pulled her leg from his grip. “Lay down,” she ordered softly. She hadn’t encouraged any intimacy like this before, but she didn’t know what else to do, and this was as good a place as any to start. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He did as he was told, settling his head uncertainly in her lap. He relaxed as she carded her fingers through his hair, though she could feel more tears soaking through the throw and her skirt. She found she preferred Neville’s thick, light brown hair to Draco’s fine, platinum locks. It was more satisfying to comb through. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You need a haircut,” she whispered, but he was already asleep, and she found herself not wanting to wake him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville set his own plate down across from her, and sat heavily. She seemed better this morning, so he took the gamble. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to talk about last night.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Panic replaced the contentment in her deep blue eyes, and his heart sunk. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The One With the Thrown Pot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pansy felt a rush of shame and fear at his words. She hadn't been </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad, had she? He hadn’t seemed upset afterwards. At least not until she’d cried. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> this is why she didn’t cry! Was he going to propose relations until he had an heir and then step out, like every other pureblood she knew? Like her father? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville leaned forward over the table, offering her his hand, palm up. She stared at it for a moment, before placing her left hand in his hesitantly. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. It was a lot of new territory for us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart was still hammering in her chest, but she matched her breaths to the soft swipes of his thumb across her knuckles, and a lump rose in her throat. He was worried about her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t entirely sure why this surprised her, it wasn’t as if he’d had a personality transplant in the last twenty-four hours, and he’d made it very clear that her wellbeing was important to him multiple times over the last several months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy sat perched on one of the sturdy wooden tables in the greenhouse. The early January snow fell softly outside the frosted glass, and the only sounds in the greenhouse were the pages turning of Pansy’s magazine and the occasional snip of Neville’s pruning shears as he collected ingredients needed by the potions master. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their peaceful companionship was interrupted when the door was nearly blasted off its hinges by a pair of Gryffindors followed by a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin. She thought they were fourth or fifth years, and her suspicions were confirmed when the Slytherin girl scowled at the backs of the Gryffindors. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should be studying for our OWLs and you two idiots just had to go and—“ she stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing Pansy, looking over her distrustfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who are you?” The Gryffindor boy looked at her wide-eyed, probably thinking she was a replacement for their beloved herbology professor. She nearly snorted at the thought, but refrained. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know who you are,” the narrow-faced Gryffindor girl narrowed her eyes before Pansy could reply. “You were my sister’s wedding planner.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Hufflepuff with golden ringlets gasped. “Does that mean you’re Professor Longbottom’s wife?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fiancée, Fi,” the Slytherin corrected. “They’re not married yet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He sure talks like they are,” the Hufflepuff huffed, and Pansy arched an eyebrow. What did that mean? Was he already grumbling about her? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re late.” Neville appeared from behind a sapling wiggentree. The four immediately dropped their gazes to the floor, and let out a chorus of “Sorry, Professor.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy had to cover her snigger with a cough, and the three girls peeked up at her. The boy’s eyes flicked nervously towards Neville though, and Pansy flipped the page of her magazine as if she wasn’t listening as Neville drew closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Professor Higgs said you four were caught dueling in the corridors. Is that true?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>dueling</span>
  </em>
  <span> if they fight dirty,” the Hufflepuff piped up, and the Gryffindor boy snorted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>flirting</span>
  </em>
  <span> more like,” he grumbled, and Pansy had to suppress another giggle. She could have sworn Neville was also fighting a smile as he shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter. I have some fanged geraniums that need repotted, so you’ll be pairing up. Fiona and Jason take the three on the left. Aisling and Sam, the three on your right.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was an immediate chorus of groans, and Neville silenced them with a hard stare. “That wasn’t a suggestion,” he warned, and the four students dutifully split up, as instructed. The Slytherin and Gryffindor girls looked horrified as they moved down the bench behind her, and Pansy turned another page of her magazine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The students worked in near silence for about an hour before the Slytherin and Gryffindor began to bicker behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville came to stand beside her, his hip brushing against the outside of her knee, pushing her skirt up ever so slightly. Her breath caught, but she stayed still, waiting to see if he’d move closer. She was awarded for her patience when he pressed into her leg, the weight and warmth comfortable, where a few months ago she would have shied away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tilted her head back to look up at him, and though his eyes were on the students, she saw the set of his jaw soften. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You put them together on purpose,” she accused, low enough that only he could hear. The quirk of his lips upward told her she was correct. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’ve had crushes on each other since the end of their second year. It’s about damn time they start acting on it,” he told her, his tone equally low. “But of course they think they can’t betray their houses like that. I’ve got five galleons that Samantha makes the move on Aisling though.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which one’s Samantha?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Gryffindor.” Neville plucked a dead leaf from where it stuck to her skirt, around the curve of her thigh where she hadn’t seen it. He’d been paying attention while he worked, then. Her stomach flipped at the thought, and she shook her head to clear it as much as to disagree with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t underestimate the Slytherin.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville smiled, dancing the line between a smirk and a true smile. “Underestimate a Slytherin? I would never.” Her stomach flipped again as his hand settled just above her knee, fingers curving around under her thigh. “Is this okay?” His hazel eyes raked over her face and it was as if the air was being sucked from her lungs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was fairly certain she’d forgotten how to breathe, but she nodded anyway. She couldn’t look away from him, her magazine forgotten in her hands. She still didn’t know how she’d gone from merely tolerating him to having her breath stolen from her lungs when he looked at her like that… Like he </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>liked her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but she watched his eyes widen, and the next few moments happened in such quick succession it wasn’t until the normally-even tempered man was yelling that she had time to process what had just happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville’s eyes had widened, and then he’d wrapped his free arm around her back, his fingers digging painfully into the soft flesh behind her knee. Crushing her to his chest, he tore her from the table and spun away just before a terra-cotta pot smashed into the wood where she’d been sitting. Her magazine skittered across the floor, coming to rest against a Chinese Chomping Cabbage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood her on unsteady feet, keeping both hands on either side of her waist to hold her upright as he glared at the four students, all of which were gaping, open mouthed at the broken pot and the fanged flower snapping angrily at thin air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What in Merlin’s name were you thinking? Who threw it?” The students all glanced between each other, and Pansy felt Neville tense. She was still trying to steady herself, both hands pressed against his chest. “WHO THREW IT?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She jumped at the raw anger in his voice as he bellowed at the students, but her visceral reaction seemed to jerk him back down. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Focusing back on her, he reached up and cupped her cheek gently. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded, still breathless and reeling. “I’m fine. It’s fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you houses didn’t matter,” Fiona hissed across the table. “They were in Gryffindor and Slytherin too and they aren’t trying to kill each other.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aisling glared at her friend, pulling at her green and silver scarf while Jason gaped at the Hufflepuff's bold words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I asked who threw it,” Neville reminded them over Pansy’s head, and the students jumped, as if they’d forgotten the two adults standing nearby could hear them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was me, sir,” Samantha admitted, looking ashamed. “I swear I didn’t mean—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To very nearly injure Miss Parkinson because you were frustrated? Annoyed? Being a Gryffindor does not give you carte blanche to be reckless, Sam. Nor does being a Slytherin give you free reign to work someone up until they’re throwing my plants, Aisling.” He pinned the two girls with a hard stare, and both shuffling uncomfortably.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy side-stepped away from him as he lectured the students, crossing her arms tightly to try to hide how badly she was still shaking from the near-miss. She also couldn’t stop the blush that had spread across her cheeks when she’d realized that Neville had thrown her around as if she weighed no more than a child. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Detention is over. Fiona, Jason, don’t forget your assignment on Mandrake uses is due Monday. Aisling, and Sam, you’ll be back here tomorrow to make up for this.” He pointed at the Fanged Geranium, still snapping agitatedly. “I would suggest figuring out a way to overcome your differences. You’ll be in detention with me until you do.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two girls glanced at each other, and quickly looked away like two frightened nifflers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” Jason looked uncomfortable, raising his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy finally turned around to face the four, and the Gryffindor was looking resolutely away from her when he said, “Miss Parkinson is bleeding.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville looked her up and down, swearing as she turned around. “Dismissed,” he shot at the students, and pulled Pansy towards a cupboard in the back. She twisted as he pulled her along, trying to see what he had. A stain bloomed across the back of her thigh, her smoky grey stockings black with blood in the low light. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t felt anything, but then she’d been preoccupied with Neville wrenching her from her seat and the pot crashing down. Now she felt a stinging pain across the back of her leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She dimly registered the door closing behind the four students, leaving them alone in the greenhouse once more. Neville released her hand to dig through the cupboard, and Pansy twisted again, trying to get a better look. There was a tear in her stockings, and quite a bit of blood, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from at her awkward angle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning back to her with several small vials and his wand in hand, he motioned to her leg. “May I?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She almost snorted, but at the same time, she’d never had someone be so careful to make sure she was agreeable to being touched. She was far more used to men like Marcus who took what they wanted, regardless of her feelings. So she took a steadying breath, and turned, hiking her skirt up higher to allow him access to her leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He muttered the counter-charm to release the gentle sticking charm that kept the tops of her stockings in place. She looked down at him sharply, but he was focused on her leg, cleaning it of blood with his wand. His fingers were gentle and warm as he prodded her thigh, and Pansy squeezed her eyes shut, feeling wholly exposed, despite having worn a shorter skirt in front of him not a week prior. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got a bloody great sliver, hold on.” His fingers brushed over it, and she winced. A moment later, he was holding up a sliver of wood about as long as her thumbnail was wide. Flicking it away, he took one of the vials and poured a drop of liquid onto his fingertip before applying it to her leg.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This one stings, sorry.” He was right, and she swore as the sting worsened, like a hot poker was being held to her thigh. She stayed still though, and then he was rubbing something else over it, easing the burn.  It was cool and soothing, the sting disappearing under his soft ministrations. “All done, and it didn’t even scar,” he told her as he stood upright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she told him as she replaced her stocking, attempting futilely to charm the blood from them. “Why do I get the feeling you have a lot of practice doing that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I work with 20 kids at a time with a blatant disregard for personal safety, in a greenhouse full of dangerous plants, and I happen to be the most accident-prone person I know. So I dunno. You tell me.” He gave her a crooked grin, and her heart skipped a beat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was interesting indeed, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on it. Instead she straightened her skirt, and brushed invisible particles from it. “Well I need to go change before dinner,” she told him, and turned on her heel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took every bit of Slytherin masking she had in her not to blush to the roots of her hair though, when she found the two Gryffindors waiting by the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl, Samantha, stepped forward, looking shy. “I just wanted to tell you I’m really sorry. It wasn’t on purpose. Professor Longbottom said you were really lovely and you were really nice to my sister. Mum would have a fit if she knew what I did, even if it was an accident.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apology accepted,” Pansy said, at a loss for anything else to say. Sam grinned, and she and Jason disappeared through the door and into the snow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy looked back to where Neville was putting everything back to rights with swishes of his wand. She smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He told them she was lovely. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really am okay,” she insisted, her eyes still on her plate. She couldn’t stand the concern that filled his eyes. But at his next question, she couldn’t stop her eyes from meeting his, horrified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who hurt you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes bore into hers, and she knew she couldn’t deny it now. He knew. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The One With the Engagement Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Neville I don’t—“ Panic washed over her like a cold wave. She started to withdraw her hand from his, but he held on a smidgeon tighter. </p><p> </p><p>“I know you don’t want to talk about it. But this is one of those things that we have to get out.” </p><p> </p><p>Her hands were shaking, her breaths coming too quickly and much too shallowly. Her vision clouded, and her eyes began to throb. She couldn’t focus on any one thing in particular, her eyes jumping erratically around the room as the feeling faded from her hands and face until she couldn’t move her fingers. </p><p> </p><p>She could hear her name, and then she was being moved, turned gently in her chair and Neville was kneeling on the tile in front of her. His lips were moving, but the blood rushing in her ears drowned out his words. He cradled her face gently between his hands, his hazel eyes locking onto hers. She knew that look. </p><p> </p><p>“Breathe.” She latched onto the command he gave her, and her lungs flooded with air. </p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Did you do as I instructed?” His breath tickled the back of her neck, a shiver shooting up and down her spine. She nodded, making a vain attempt to keep her breathing level. “I need to hear you,” he reminded her, and her breath caught. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, what?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir.” </p><p> </p><p>“Good. You’ll be so glad later.” He pressed a hot kiss to the back of her neck, and then straightened. “Ready to go?” His voice lost the commanding edge, slipping back into the sweet, unassuming man she’d previously assumed was no kinkier than a ruler. </p><p> </p><p>An assumption that she couldn’t have been more incorrect about if she’d tried. </p><p> </p><p>“Theo’s bound to be late,” she told him, smoothing her skirt down, unnecessary as it was. The black fabric hugged her curves like a glove, but a lack of undergarments had her feeling slightly off-kilter. She could only imagine it was exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d sent the owl that morning. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Black dress. Red heels. No knickers.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t signed it, but he hadn’t needed to. Since opening discussions regarding his predilections in the bedroom, it had become increasingly clear that Pansy appreciated it far more than either of them had first assumed, and this hadn’t been the first owl-delivered instruction she’d received. </p><p> </p><p>Neville was careful to keep it within her comfort zone, only pressing soft limits when he could carefully gauge her reactions and adjust as necessary. Today had been the first time he’d given her instructions that would be carried out anywhere besides the safety of their homes. </p><p> </p><p>It was late April, and they were due to the Burrow of all places to celebrate their friends’ engagement. Ron and Theo had been quietly been dating for some time before making it public once Neville and Pansy had announced their own engagement the previous fall. As Pansy had heard it, it had been Ron to grow impatient, and practically demanded Theo marry him. </p><p> </p><p>“Then he can bear the brunt of Mrs Weasley’s ire. I’d rather not be on her bad side tonight,” he told her with a crooked smile. He was dressed in slacks and a button-down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She was coming to truly appreciate his no-nonsense approach to most things, and his wardrobe, though uncomplicated, showed off his toned body wonderfully. Her heart skipped a beat, and she shook her head. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright then. Let’s go.” She suppressed a shudder of pleasure as his hand slid around her back, calmly and confidently guiding her to the street, just beyond the anti-apparition wards. The squeeze of apparition left her breathless, and she inhaled sharply as his hand ran across her backside, as if he was checking to make sure she’d been telling him the truth. </p><p> </p><p>“Just admiring, I trust you,” he murmured, catching her miffed expression. Appeased, she folded her hands neatly and allowed him to guide her into the home. She found it easier each time she was dragged into a lion’s den with one at her side, but she’d been relieved to know that she wasn’t the only one to become entrenched with them. </p><p> </p><p>In the sitting room, they found Draco and Harry in the midst of a heated argument. </p><p> </p><p>“They were having such a good season until she dropped out,” Draco whined, and Harry looked incensed. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry my bloody CHILD is more important than the bloody League!”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t say that, Potter! I’m just saying maybe you could have waited--” </p><p> </p><p>“SHUT IT!” A very pregnant, very irritated Ginny Potter brandished her wand at the pair, earning her sheepish looks from both. Neville thankfully skirted past the scene, instead approaching where Hermione and her husband Fred were watching from across the room. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Nev. Pansy.” Hermione greeted them politely, and Pansy nodded, still uncomfortable with the other witch. “They’ve been at it a while. Ron and Theo still aren’t here, but I'm sure they’re--”<br/><br/></p><p>“Probably getting it on and making us deal with Mum,” the twin grumbled, and Neville laughed. </p><p> </p><p>“You mean like all of you have done? Let him have his moment, mate.” </p><p> </p><p>Hermione flushed scarlet, and Pansy had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. </p><p> </p><p>“You told him?” She turned on her husband, who looked alarmed at her ire. </p><p> </p><p>“No! I mean, I might’ve mentioned-- but I didn’t share details…” He was still digging himself from his grave when Ron and Theo arrived a few minutes later. Based on the appearance of Theo’s hair, Pansy was fairly certain they’d been right. Ron blushed to the roots of his ginger hair when they were greeted with whoops and hollers, but his smile was blinding when Theo reached for his hand, entwining their fingers. </p><p> </p><p>Neville pulled her a hair closer, and she murmured low enough for only him to hear, “They’re so happy it’s gross.” </p><p> </p><p>“Funny, I heard the same thing about us just last week,” he whispered back, and she arched an eyebrow at him. He responded with a wink, and she rolled her eyes, huffing. </p><p> </p><p>“Soon enough we’ll be bickering like the rest of them,” she inclined her head towards Harry and Ginny, then towards Hermione and Fred. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, trailing his fingers down her hip. Goose flesh prickled up her arms and legs, tightening her nipples into peaks. Neville stepped sideways, angling himself behind her and bringing his arm up to cross over her chest, directly over where her nipples pressed against the satin of her dress. Curling her arms up to hold to his arm, she leaned back into him. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing,” she muttered, avoiding the very curious eyes of Draco, Theo, and Daphne, who had just walked through the door with Blaise. He subtly shifted his arm, applying just enough pressure to the nubs that she jerked at the sensation. “Neville!” Her voice was somewhere between a gasp and a whine, her hands tightening around his arm. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Shh</em>, Petal,” he breathed into her hair, and she took a shaky breath in. The inhalation dragged her nipples across the underside of his arm again, and she trembled slightly. She managed to keep a mask over her features, but just barely. </p><p> </p><p> To the rest of the room, it looked as if Neville was holding her protectively against his chest, with Pansy leaning comfortably against him, tracing light lines up and down his forearm. What they didn’t see was the little jolts that came with each of her breaths and the increasing wetness between her thighs, even as she crossed her legs. For the first time in years, she felt unsteady on her heels, and when Neville finally dropped his arm to take a drink from George, she thought she was going to tip over. She grasped wildly for support, and his other arm came up around her midsection, stabilizing her. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got you,” he said, just loud enough for Draco, Theo, Ginny, and Harry to hear nearby. They looked round, and Pansy could feel their scrutinizing gazes on her. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you feeling alright, Pans? You look a little flushed.” Draco stepped forward, and Neville smoothly handed him his untouched glass. </p><p> </p><p>“She hasn’t been feeling well, but insisted to come to support Ron and Theo.” Neville gave them a weak smile. “I’ll take her home and make sure she gets feeling better.” Pansy couldn’t believe how easily and <em>convincingly </em>the lie rolled from his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“Pans you could have just owled,” Theo admonished her, and she shook her head. </p><p> </p><p>“No, no. I couldn’t miss this. I’m so happy for you, even if you were a dick and didn’t tell me first.” Theo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry Pans. But you’ll be able to say for the rest of all time that we wouldn’t be here without you.”</p><p> </p><p>“And don’t forget it,” she flashed a smirk at him, and then Neville swiped his thumb across her ribs and she visibly shuddered. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure you’re alright?” Harry was looking too closely, and she dropped her eyes avoiding the man’s eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“I think we should be going,” she said, losing the teasing edge she’d had with Theo just moments before. </p><p> </p><p>“Congratulations again, gents. We’ll have to see you again soon once things have settled.” Neville shook the men’s hands, keeping his left hand on the small of her back. True to form, Pansy didn’t reach out to any of them, just nodded her goodbyes to her friends, and short, curt nods to the others. </p><p> </p><p>She wanted to sprint from the room, but Neville moved casually through the crowd of people, never once breaking contact with her until he released her to help her with her cloak. She didn’t reach out for him, but she felt her shoulders relax slightly when his arm slipped back around her back and they stepped out into the cool spring air. </p><p> </p><p>“Merlin, could you have made that any harder?” She glanced up at him, and realized the double entendre a beat too late. He was still chuckling as he aparated them away, directly onto her doorstep. She unlocked the door with a flick of her wand, and she was already shrugging off her cloak when the door shut behind him. </p><p> </p><p>“Back against the wall.” His tone dropped into the low, controlled voice that sent shivers up her spine and a whimper crawling up her throat. The one Luna had dubbed his <em>Dom voice.</em></p><p> </p><p>With her back pressed to the wall, he came to stand in front of her, with his hands braced on either side of her head. </p><p> </p><p>“Colour?” </p><p> </p><p>“Green.” It was only a whisper, but it was enough. That was one thing he insisted on: her answer had to be audible. </p><p> </p><p>“Good.” He leaned forward, kissing her gently. It was sweet; chaste. He lingered only until her mouth parted, silently asking for more, and then he pulled back. </p><p> </p><p>“You did so well tonight.” He moved his lips to her earlobe as he spoke, low and steady. “Did you like it? Being teased where all our friends could see?” </p><p> </p><p>The whimper that had been stuck in her throat bubbled free, and his answering chuckle had her pressing her thighs together. “I thought you might.” His tongue flicked at the soft skin of her neck, and she pressed her palms into the wall, trying to stay still. “I think there’s something else you might like tonight, Petal.” </p><p> </p><p>Her breaths came in short pants as he sank slowly to his knees. He traced the back seams of her stockings slowly, dragging his fingertips from her heels to the backs of her knees. Slowly he worked her skirt up, inch by inch; exposing the lacy tops of her stockings and the smooth skin of her thighs. He stopped with his hands under her skirt but her modesty intact, glancing up at her as if making sure her ragged breaths were still of pleasure and not of panic. </p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t fathom how he had the self control to stop, because everything within her was screaming for more, <em>more, MORE. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Gods please don’t stop now.” Her legs were beginning to shake in anticipation, and his searching expression was replaced with a smug smile at her pleading. She wiggled her hips, and he took the hint, easing her skirt up over the last free inches of her bare skin. His fingers skated over her legs, taking in every minute reaction from her fingers grasping futilely at the wallpaper and the muscles of her thighs and stomach flexing under his gentle exploration. </p><p> </p><p>She gasped when his lips pressed into the dip where her legs met her pelvis. It felt as if electricity was running through her skin, and then he was pulling one leg over his shoulder, his lips and tongue exploring her inner thigh. </p><p> </p><p>“Colour?” </p><p> </p><p>“Green, <em>fuck</em>! Green.” </p><p> </p><p>He must’ve thought her shaking leg wasn’t going to support her, because with a swish and flick, the weight of her body disappeared, and she sank back against the wall. A moment of respite was all he gave her before he pulled her other leg over his shoulder as well, and then he was alternating her thighs, working his way oh so slowly up. </p><p> </p><p>She abandoned her attempts to gain purchase on the wall when his tongue flicked at her clit, instead threading through his hair and rolling her hips to meet his lips. She lost all sense of time while he explored her sex with his tongue and his hands touched every inch of her thighs, cupping her arse and holding tightly to her hips when she grew impatient. </p><p> </p><p>He was talented, there was no doubt about it, expertly sucking and laving her clit with varying pressures until her thighs shook on his shoulders and she was letting out a litany of swear words she’d never dare use within a ten kilometer radius of her mother. He reached up, playing with her nipples through her dress with one hand, and Pansy keened at his touch. </p><p> </p><p>When he buried the tip of his tongue in her cunt, she fell apart with a cry. Without the levitation charm keeping her upright, she was positive she would have ended up on the floor. He lapped and licked and sucked her through her orgasm, drawing it out longer than she thought should be physically possible; certainly longer than she’d been able to wring out of herself or the short one she’d gotten when Marcus had gotten lucky with one of his attempts at fingering her before growing bored and getting himself off. </p><p> </p><p>When she was finally quiet and boneless, Neville eased back, his soft kisses along her thighs sending shockwaves over her overstimulated skin. Carefully moving her legs from his shoulders, he tugged her skirt back into place, releasing the charm so she settled bridal-style into his arms. She let her head rest in the curve of his neck and shoulder as he carried her to the living room. He sat them both on the sofa, pulling a soft blanket free from the back as he did, wrapping it around her. </p><p> </p><p>She inhaled deeply, taking in the clean, woodsy scent of him. She never could put her finger on what he smelled like, but it was pleasant and comforting. “Should I be worried at how easily you lied to them?” </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t <em>teeeechnically</em> lie. I asked if you really wanted to go last week and you said we wouldn’t miss it. And you do feel better now, don’t you?” </p><p> </p><p>She snorted. “That’s awfully Slytherin if you.” </p><p> </p><p>He chuckled, the vibrations rolling through her. “Are you complaining?” </p><p> </p><p>“No. Just surprised. But then you’re just full of those.” </p><p> </p><p>He hummed noncommittally, and began tracing small circles over her thigh with his thumb. She was nearly asleep when he asked, </p><p> </p><p>“So is the voice that bad?” </p><p> </p><p>“Not if it always ends with me feeling better,” she mumbled, and snuggled closer. </p><p> </p><p>“Deal,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was out cold before he straightened. </p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Keep breathing. Slowly. In, hold, out, hold. Good. I’ve got you, keep breathing.”</p><p> </p><p>She knew that voice. If she listened, she would feel better. She always did. </p><p> </p><p>Bit by bit, she came back to the brightly lit kitchen, her husband stroking her hair away from her face and then a violet vial came into focus. She couldn’t remember him summoning it, or if he’d grabbed it himself, but she took it obediently when he ordered her. </p><p> </p><p>The potion worked immediately, her pulse slowing and the panic receding. </p><p> </p><p>“There you are. Better?” </p><p> </p><p>She nodded, averting her eyes. She was embarrassed that she couldn’t even think about it without having a panic attack, and even worse was knowing that she’d done something to clue him in. She’d been so careful to not let it come up. </p><p> </p><p>“Pansy please talk to me. Please.” He sounded on the verge of tears himself, and she looked back to find him with an expression that ripped her heart out. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The One Where Neville Goes Missing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Anguish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devastation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Helplessness. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy didn’t like the emotions playing across his face for a plethora of reasons. She supposed they first and foremost was the feeling that she was causing him pain. She’d never wanted that. Especially after the last nine months. He had gone above and beyond to do and to be everything she never dared hope for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Underlying the guilt was the discomfort that came with seeing a man as stoic and strong as Neville looking so lost. She knew he still had moments of insecurity and uncertainty, but this went beyond that. This was deep-seeded fear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last, she supposed, was knowing the last time she’d seen that look, it was in conjunction with Hannah. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neville?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy stepped out of the floo, looking around his office. It was empty, and she felt a prickle of discomfort. He was probably in class. She still couldn’t keep his schedule straight, she was probably mistaken about the time of his prep period. It was Friday, and he’d missed their weekly lunch date. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pushing the feeling away, she strode purposefully towards the greenhouses. She could see movement in Greenhouse 3, so she pushed her way in, stopping dead in her tracks at the woman behind the teacher’s table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Professor Sprout?” She stopped cold, floundering slightly. “What are you doing here? Where’s Nev— Professor Longbottom?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The class was peering at her curiously, and she caught sight of a couple familiar faces. This must be one of the 5th year OWL classes, because Fiona and Aisling were waving at her from the bench closest to the door. Professor Sprout’s eyebrows disappeared into her now totally white flyaway hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Obviously,” Pansy snapped, and then backpedaled at the same look that preceded 8 years’ worth of detentions. “Sorry, Professor. He just missed our lunch and I’m getting a bit worried.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman’s expression softened, and she waved at the students. “Carry on while I assist Miss Parkinson. Detention and ten points from anyone who I catch anywhere near the mandrakes!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stripped off her dragon hide gloves, reaching for Pansy’s elbow as they left the greenhouse. She waited for the door to close behind them before turning to face her. “He asked me to fill in for the day, said he had some business to attend to. I assumed it was for the wedding, and he’d be with you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s stomach clenched. “No… I’ve been careful to work around his schedule, but we have lunch every Friday. He hasn’t missed one yet, especially without telling me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sprout’s eyebrows furrowed more deeply. “Maybe Minerva knows?” Pansy glanced up at the castle, but Sprout was already flicking her wand. A silver woodchuck sprang from the end of her wand, and bounded up the stone wall of the castle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned back to Pansy, cocking her head curiously. “Neville’s got a good head on his shoulders. I'm sure he just got busy and forgot to mention his plans to you, dear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy swallowed hard, and nodded, crossing her arms tightly. She was still trying to find something— anything— to say to her former professor when a tabby cat bounded down the steps toward them. Mid stride, Minerva shifted back, looking concerned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy? Where’s Neville?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know?” Pansy’s chest tightened, and she tightened her grip on her upper arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should I?” Minerva looked sharply to Professor Sprout, who lifted a shoulder in half a shrug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He missed lunch,” Pansy said, mentally forming a list of all the places he may be. Home, St Mungo’s, the Ministry, The Leaky Cauldron, his grandmother’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He told me he had business elsewhere,” Sprout added, and Minerva huffed, but a crash from the Greenhouse drew their attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bloody fools,” Sprout muttered, stomping into the greenhouse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pro— Minerva.” Pansy corrected herself. “This isn’t like him. He’s not once missed lunch with me. I know he’s a bit forgetful but it’s been hours.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fear welled in her throat. What if it was something from his time as an Auror? What if he was hurt? What if—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not like him,” Minerva agreed, pulling her from her spiralling thoughts, and Pansy felt a modicum of relief that even if she was overreacting, someone else knew it wasn’t just his forgetfulness at play. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The greenhouse door burst open again, this time revealing Aisling and Fiona, bright red blood dripping down Fiona’s face from her nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What in Merlin’s—“ Pansy looked between the two. “What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Josh Hendricks said Ash was going to muck up with Sam just because she’s a Slytherin and Sam’s a Gryffindor,” Fiona explained, holding her sleeve to her nose, the yellow cuffs blooming with orangish-red as the blood soaked into it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So Fi told him you and Professor Longbottom are a Slytherin and Gryffindor and you two are </span>
  <em>
    <span>goals</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He laughed so she punched him,” Aisling said, glaring at the greenhouse behind her friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And his stupid girlfriend Jaime Shelton hit me with a knock back jinx and I hit a Wiggentree branch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I pushed them both into that stupid snargaluff. Professor Sprout’s still trying to get them untangled,” Aisling said proudly, seeming to forget the Headmistress’s presence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy shook her head exasperatedly. “You know Professor Longbottom will have you for a weeks’ worth of detentions when he finds out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind detentions with him. At least we actually learn things, and it’s not just shining the trophy cases </span>
  <em>
    <span>again,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fiona piped up, and wilted when she saw Minerva’s expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Drummond, please escort Miss Walcott to the hospital wing and return to class. I’ll let Professor Longbottom deal with you both when he returns.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girls lost their smiles and nodded, scurrying off towards the castle. Minerva shook her head in exasperation, and inclined her head towards the door leading into the corridor that held Neville’s office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those two are thicker than thieves and twice as much trouble,” Minerva sighed, and Pansy couldn’t help but smile as they entered Neville’s office together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been around for a few of their detentions. They’re good kids, most of the time.” Pansy didn’t mention then trying to smuggle a bouncing bulb out of the greenhouse to throw at the Ravenclaw table at dinner. She and Neville still laughed about that one. Her stomach twisted at the thought that they should have been laughing at lunch hours before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been quieter than usual for the last week or so, but brushed off her concern, saying he was just tired with the students’ end of year exams quickly approaching. She’d allowed his excuses, and she was now whole-heartedly regretting it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His house first, I think,” Minerva said, offering the flowerpot full of floo powder to her. She nodded, and stepped through the floo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minerva stepped out a moment later, and flicked her wand. Pansy felt the soft swooping sensation of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>homenum revelio</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but nothing else happened. He wasn’t here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At Mungo’s, maybe?” She looked towards Minerva, who nodded sharply. This time she went first, and was already speaking to a healer in bright green robes when Pansy stepped out a moment later. She only caught the tail end of what the healer was saying, but it was enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...since Sunday, like always. Alice would have been in a right state today if he had been. Is everything alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Isadora. Thank you for your time.” Minerva jerked her head towards the fireplace, and Pansy’s increasingly queasy feeling had nothing to do with the two floo trips in less than ten minutes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s try the Leaky next. I’ll send a patronus to Harry, he can meet us there if necessary.” Pansy nodded numbly, the low urgency in Minerva’s voice scaring her. This wasn’t going to be like her father. He wouldn’t just disappear for months on end only to be found dead by aurors. No. It couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be. She had the distinct feeling Minerva was thinking along the same lines, because the woman’s hand tightened around her wand, her knuckles white. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s hands were shaking when she stepped into the familiar pub, now much lighter and cleaner than it had been in her school days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Pans,” Susan called from behind the bar. “Fancy an early start to happy hour?” The former Hufflepuff lost her smile when Minerva stepped out of the floo a moment later. “Minerva? What are you doing here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen Neville today?” Pansy cursed the hope that crept into her voice, but Susan was already shaking her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. Last I saw him was Tuesday night when he was here with the boys from the Auror Academy.” Pansy felt as if she was going to be ill, and Minerva was already sending a patronus towards the ministry. “What’s wrong? Where’s Nev?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy sunk into a nearby chair, willing herself not to cry or be sick. Suddenly her head snapped up. “We didn’t check A&amp;E at St Mungo’s. Maybe Draco—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minerva was already stepping back through the floo, and suddenly Pansy felt so very, very cold. Susan joined her at the table, staring silently into the fireplace. It felt like an eternity before the flames turned green and Harry Potter stepped out in scarlet Auror’s robes. The fire didn’t even have time to fade back to yellow before Minerva emerged, Draco on her heels, still in his grey work robes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean you can’t find Neville,” Harry demanded, and Pansy closed her eyes tightly against the scene before her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not at home, the school, St Mungo’s, or here. He missed lunch with Pansy and it’s not like him.” Minerva said, her voice drawing closer. “He told Pomona he had business to attend to, but nothing more.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When were you supposed to have lunch?” It took a beat of silence for Pansy to realize Harry was speaking to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Around one. He usually collects me from my office and we choose from there.” It was after half four now, and she couldn’t think of anywhere else he could have gone for so long. She opened her eyes to find Harry pacing, and Minerva standing impossibly straight-backed beside her. Draco was blinking rapidly, looking between the assembled group before his quicksilver gaze settled on her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave her a look, and it was as good as using legilimency. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t panic. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was easier said than done, but Pansy nodded sharply. Years of close friendship has honed their silent conversations, and she was glad he’d come along. Harry and Minerva were discussing possible places to check, but Pansy tuned them out, doing everything she could to stay calm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t like father. He just lost track of the time. He’s fine. Probably browsing a nursery somewhere. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you just send him a patronus like you did with him?” Draco’s voice drew her attention as her jerked a thumb at Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Statute of Secrecy,” Harry said sharply. “If he’s around muggles do you have any idea how much paperwork that will be?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care about the bloody paperwork,” Draco snarled, and Pansy felt the first tear slide free. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s more than just paperwork, you moron. I’m not risking it and then sending out an entire team of obliviators because he decided to take an afternoon off to do some shopping.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not shopping,” Pansy said softly. “He despises it. He’d do it all by owl-order if he could.” A second tear raced down her cheek, and she brushed it away impatiently. She was Pansy Bloody Parkinson. She didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>cry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could he be with Luna?” Harry spoke up from where he was doing his best to wear a hole through the floor, and Draco shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luna and Rolf are in Southeast Asia for another… What is today? The fourteenth?” Draco tapped his fingertips against his thumb as he counted. “Four days.” Pansy wasn’t sure why he knew the Scamander’s travel schedule, but she didn’t much care at the moment, either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck,” Susan breathed, from behind her, and Pansy whipped around. Her eyes were wide, but Pansy couldn’t tell what her expression meant. “It’s April fourteenth.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What does that mean?” Harry moved closer, and Pansy held her breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize.” Susan’s eyes filled with tears as four sets bored into her. “Tomorrow’s Hannah’s birthday. I know where he is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy didn’t know if she should scream or cry, so she settled on a long sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you take me to him?” She looked at the redhead, who nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll stay til you come back, make sure he’s really there,” Harry assured her, and Susan nodded, summoning her cloak. Together they stepped into Diagon Alley, rushing towards the nearest aparition point. They clasped hands, and together they were swept away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s lungs filled with chilly, salty air, and the wind coming off the sea cooled the tear tracks on her face until they burned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were on a path at the top of a cliff, somewhere in Wales if Pansy had to guess. She could see a small village a short distance away, and a bench sat overlooking where the waves crashed against the cliff face. Pansy would have recognized his light brown hair anywhere, the way it began to curl at the collar when it was getting just a tad too long, and the way he sat with his elbows braced on his knee, hands clasped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is where he was going to propose to her… Where he scattered her ashes,” Susan sniffled, and Pansy swallowed hard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she whispered to Susan, and she nodded, unshed tears still sparkling in her eyes. Pansy heard the soft pop as she left, but she stood there a bit longer, watching the man closely. He stared out over the sea with unseeing eyes, his cheeks, ears, and nose pink with cold and windburn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t turn when she approached, though she had no doubt that he heard her on the gravel path. She sat on the bench beside him, keeping her eyes on the horizon. They sat in silence for a long while, Pansy casting a nonverbal warming spell over them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I missed lunch,” he said finally, his voice rough. “I just— I didn’t— I couldn’t—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care about lunch,” she interrupted him. “I was just worried about you.” She glanced at him, and wondered for a moment if she should break her rule and reach for his hand. But she couldn’t do it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bowed his head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, and Pansy asked softly, “do you want me to go?” She didn’t want to leave him there in the cold, but she didn’t want to stay if she was unwanted, either. In the split second before he answered, though, she found herself silently begging him to ask her to stay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please…” Her heart plummeted into her stomach. “Please don’t go.” His voice broke, and he looked at her with tears sparkling in his hazel eyes. He looked so impossibly sad it drove the air from her lungs. The impact of his devastation was short lived, because he dropped his face back into his hands, though she saw the tears fall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still she couldn’t reach out, but she slid closer, pressing her leg against his. She felt his shuddering breaths, and breathed a sigh of relief when he reached for her hand. She folded both of hers around it, and he held on tightly, like a drowning man to a lifeline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can talk about her. You don’t have to pretend to be okay with me when you’re not.” She wouldn’t have sure he’d heard her over the wind if it wasn’t for his hand tightening around hers. “I know you still love her, and it’s okay. I’m not replacing her, I’m not trying to. I’d never.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy I—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never been in love,” she interrupted. “I never expected to be in a position where I might be able to even hope for that. You were lucky to have her. It probably doesn’t feel that way, but you’ll always have that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How can you be so calm about it? That the bloke you’re supposed to marry in less than two months is in love with another woman?” A bitter edge touched his words, and Pansy smiled sadly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was raised to be a lot of things, but jealous was not one of them. And it’s nice to know the bloke I’m marrying in less than two months is capable of loving like you do, Neville. My father didn’t love my mother. He certainly didn’t love me. Having a man in my life that loves like you do is a nice change, even if it’s not directed towards me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville looked horrified, but Pansy kept her eyes on the horizon. “I like you. I think you like me most of the time. And even that’s more than I could have hoped for. I think if I’d known her after school, I’d have liked Hannah too. So please don’t worry about me or how I might feel.” She squeezed his hand. “But— and I think Hannah would back me up on this one— don’t <em>ever</em> disappear like that again. I think Minerva and Professor Sprout might need apologies. Possibly Potter. And you might want to steal clear of Draco for a few days.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Neville huffed a laugh, wiping his face with his free hand. “That she would. Calling in the calvary?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “What can I say. It’s in my best interest to keep you alive and accounted for a bit longer.” She winked, and he shook his head. “Oh and Aisling and Fiona are going to need detentions this weekend… but go easy on them. Fiona punched that Slytherin because he told her Slytherins and Gryffindors couldn’t make a relationship work. Apparently we’re the dream and they won’t stand to hear otherwise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would it be wrong of me to take her a treat instead of giving her detention?” Neville flashed a crooked smile at her, and she inclined her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>not a professor and I’m definitely showing up with a big box of Honeydukes best chocolates.” She smirked. “What a shame it will be if it just </span>
  <em>
    <span>happens </span>
  </em>
  <span>to coincide with their detentions.” He grinned at her, and she leaned into his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For what it’s worth,” he murmured after a moment, “I like you pretty much all the time. Thank you, Pansy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I can’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why won’t you let me help you?” Neville’s voice was pleading, and Pansy shook her head, hair flying around her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not just me I can’t—“ she covered her mouth, and Neville leaned closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t stand thinking that someone hurt you,” he whispered, a tormented look in his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They can’t anymore,” she whispered, leaning into him. She rested her forehead against his bare shoulder, and his arms came up around her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he promised, and Pansy closed her eyes. For the first time since she was a child, she actually believed that someone would keep their word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” she breathed, clinging a bit closer. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The One Where Neville Stands up to Gran</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neville didn’t know when her threshold of being held was going to be met or passed, and he didn’t want to let the moment go to waste. He’d learned early on that Pansy rarely initiated physical contact, though was very receptive to it, but that she could quickly become overwhelmed. He was still trying to puzzle out just why she was the way she was, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this mystery was part of the answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was content to hold her for as long as she’d allow it, even if his skin itched from the remnants of dried sweat and a hastily cast cleansing charm. It was worth it if she kept clinging to him like she needed him. She could hold her own; he knew that. But it was nice when she allowed her walls down and let him care for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was all too soon when she was withdrawing, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and looking embarrassed. She hated being embarrassed, he knew that. So he just returned to his chair, ignoring the ache in his lower back from the awkward position he’d maintained to hold her. “I’ll wash up, and then I need a shower. Is there anything you needed or wanted to do today?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pushed her plate away, the remnant of a crêpe seeming to have lost its appeal to her. “Not particularly. Honestly I’m not sure what to do with myself without work to keep me busy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville vanished the uneaten food and carried their plates to the sink. “I’m sure we’ll find something to keep ourselves occupied.” She hummed behind him, and Neville finished the dishes quickly. She was gone from the table by the time he turned back around, and he let it be, thinking she needed some space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t see her as he passed through the house, but the room they’d converted into her office was on the far side. He’d hoped it would be a haven for her, and it looked as if she was already taking advantage of having her own space. In their room, he made the bed with a flick of his wand, noted the missing vial from the nightstand, stripped down to his shorts and headed into the bathroom to shower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned the water onto cold, needing a shock to keep him from thinking of the way Pansy had looked in that slip and his shirt, hair still messy from sleep, her feet bare in the grass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Merlin and Morgana, she was going to be the death of him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let the cold water sluice over him, washing away the sweat and prickling feeling left by the charm. Lowering his head into the stream, he tried to let the roar of the water in his ears to drown out the questions flying around his brain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy was intensely private when it suited her. He supposed that was her strong sense of self-preservation coming into play, but it was infuriating to be locked out. He sighed, pressing his forehead to the cold tile wall. This is what Gran had meant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You proposed.” Gran eyed him over her teacup as she had a million times before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did.” Neville didn’t bother trying to buy himself time or denying it. He knew better; Augusta Longbottom was not to be trifled with. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“When I said you’d make a good match, I didn’t think you’d jump quite this quickly. But then I should have known, your father didn’t waste any time with Alice, either.” Her sharp eyes were steady despite the small tremor that had developed in her hands since the end of the war. “I wish you’d both gotten more of my logic and less of your grandfather’s blasted chivalry. You go charging in to fix what isn’t yours to fix without stopping to think of the consequences.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not trying to fix anything, Gran. Expect my marital status and the continuation of the Longbottom name.” Neville didn’t want to argue with her, not when the Parkinsons were expecting them in just under an hours’ time, when he and Pansy would announce their engagement to her mother and uncle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’d been a Ravenclaw like me, maybe you’d be able to see through your foolish pride.” Neville had heard about a hundred different variations of the ‘if you’d just been a Ravenclaw like me’ speech over the years, but this time, he snapped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I’d been a Ravenclaw, I wouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gran. You were so bloody proud when I was eleven, you were so bloody proud when I killed that bloody snake, then when I joined the aurors. You want me to be Dad and yet you condemn me for making choices you claim he would make. Will I ever be enough by just being me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Augusta had frozen in her chair, her eyes narrowed and her tea sloshing in her cup. For perhaps the first time in his life, he stared her down across the sitting room. Time slowed down, until she cracked a wry smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This girl is going to drive you absolutely mad. You need all the answers and I’ll eat my hat if she gives them to you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville had promptly excused himself, Augusta’s cackling laughter following him down the halls of his family home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville jumped when hands colder than the water he stood in slid around his waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bloody hell, you’re freezing!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I was hoping for a shower slightly warmer than the arctic,” she joked, and he felt her shuffle closer, her breasts and cheek pressing into his back. Neville immediately reached for the tap, turning it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He craned his neck to see her when she sighed under the quickly warming water. Her eyes were closed, and she looked serene, if not content. Small droplets of water clung to her hair, sparking like stars against the inky black of her hair. Neville folded his hands over hers on his stomach, and her lips curved up. Neville closed his eyes, committing the image to his memory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was so bloody gorgeous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope this means you don’t mind,” she murmured, and Neville hummed, a quiet question. “I asked if I could join but I don’t think you heard me,” she clarified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. No, I don’t mind at all. I thought you wanted some time to yourself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a pause, and Neville was afraid she was going to pull back, retreat within herself again. But she sighed, and held him just a fraction tighter. “I thought I did. But then I…” she trailed off. Neville stayed silent, still wondering if she’d flee like a spooked rabbit.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be alone.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville got the feeling that she didn’t just mean at the moment, but he didn’t press, instead turning to bring her further into the stream of water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it hot enough?” He waited for her nod before turning in place so they faced each other. She molded herself to him, the spray quickly drenching her hair. Her skin was silky smooth beneath his fingertips, one hand cupping her elbow, the other trailing up her spine. With her head tucked under his chin, he lost himself on the feeling of skin on skin, the pressure of the water fending off the need to fill the silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, the warmer water and the incredibly soft, sweet-smelling witch that was doing her best impression of the Black Lake’s giant squid meant that his erection was back in full force, pressing against the soft curve of her stomach. When Pansy dragged a finger through a rivulet of water running down his chest, he could have sworn she was tugging on a thread that connected straight to his groin. He clenched his jaw, breathing slowly through his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville prided himself on being a man of considerable self control, but when Pansy followed the stream of water down from his chest to his stomach to brush along the side of his cock, his grip tightened on her elbow. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Pansy.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a warning, but when he cracked his eyes, she was looking up with him with undisguised lust, her bottom lip captured in her teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir?” Her lip was red from her bite, and hope flashed across her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Merlin and Morgana, she was lovely. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I asked if you had anything you needed or wanted today…” he trailed off, a gentle warning in his tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t sure I wanted…” her breath caught as his cock jumped against her abdomen and her hand stilled. “But I…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you need?” Neville dropped his voice into the commanding tone that seemed to cut through her fears and uncertainties like a hot knife through butter. Nine, six, or even three months ago she never would have been able to take the next jump, but he was bursting with pride when she articulated it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want you to take over. I want to let go.” She squeezed her eyes shut as she said it, but for now, it was enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville reached up, dragging his fingers through her hair, lifting the weight of it from her shoulders. “Okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed, resting her forehead against his chest and he felt another surge of affection towards her. He picked up the bottle that had appeared with the rest of her things before the wedding, and poured a generous amount into his palm. The tiny surprised noise she made when he began to massage her scalp was endearing, and he nearly groaned when she relaxed her arms and hands down to rest on his hips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But don’t you—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shhh. We have time, love.” He methodically worked the shampoo through her hair before carefully maneuvering her under the stream of water, rinsing it clean of the white suds that smelled of cherries. He marveled for a moment at the unbroken sheet of black it made when the water ran through it; he’d never seen anything quite like it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have time,” he whispered again, though this time he wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her, or himself. He’d thought he’d had time with Hannah, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook himself from the shadows of the past, again supporting the heavy weight of her water-laden hair. He never understood how women acted as if it was no big deal. He’d always thought that it would make his neck ache, to have so much hair, but he was glad they suffered through it. He was a sucker for long, soft hair like Pansy’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning off the water, he took a clean towel and carefully dried her, patting her skin dry with the fluffy towel. She tried to object again when he knelt to reach her legs, but he stood slowly, gathering her in his arms. “Hush, Petal. This is part of it too. Let go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sagged against him, as if she’d just been waiting for him to grant her permission. He considered for a moment, before leading her back into their bedroom. A flick of his wrist had the chair from the corner moving forward. He pressed her into it, the forest green velvet upholstery a pretty contrast against her skin. Another flick, and her hairbrush flew in from the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, and carefully began to brush her hair, beginning at the bottom and working his way slowly up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She moaned, an entirely indecent sound that made his bare cock jump. Still he continued, careful not to pull as he brushed her hair. When he was done, her hair was dry, and she was putty in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, love. Center of the bed, on your back.” It took her a moment to process his words, but she did as she was told without complaint. She crawled up the bed as he replaced the chair, flopping across the duvet like she was moments from falling asleep. She wouldn’t be for long, but he was glad she was relaxed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood at the end of the bed, admiring her naked body, splayed out like a work of art. “Are you sore?” He trailed a light touch over her ankle and the outside of her foot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not anymore,” she sighed, her lids heavy. Her answer confirmed that she’d taken the pain potion earlier, and gave him a bit of direction to work with. He would wait to fuck her again to give her body time to recover, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pleasure her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Colour?” He trailed his hand up her leg, brushing over her knee and the front of her thigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Green.” She sounded sleepy, almost dreamy. He could see a sliver of her dark blue eyes watching him, and he gave her an encouraging smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good girl, Petal. You’re so lovely.” He dragged his fingertips down the insides of her thighs, and up over her lower lips. She parted her legs, pliant and willing beneath his touch, and he felt a thrill course through him. He dragged one finger over her exposed clitoris, and she moaned, rolling her hips up to meet him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” she whined, and his control began to disintegrate. He knelt on the bed between her feet, settling down on his stomach to face her cunt. Gently lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders, he kissed up the insides of her thighs. Finding the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, he flicked at it, eliciting a moan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so beautifully receptive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and her thighs were like silk against his jaw and neck. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, and she trembled slightly when he used the flat of his tongue to press into her quim. He was gentle but persistent, adding a finger when he returned to laving attention on her clit. Curling it forward, he knew he’d hit the right spot when she gasped, and her fingers threaded through his hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s right, Petal,” he murmured, diving back in and renewing his attack with enthusiasm. Her thighs began to shake, and he curled his finger in a “come hither” motion— once, twice— and she was shattering in his hands, her shout nearly a sob as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. Neville moaned as her thighs tightened and her climax continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was certain it was only residual shock waves causing her thighs to tremble, he carefully disengaged himself, crawling up to lay beside her. He was surprised when she sought out his lips with her own. Her tongue dipped into his mouth to taste herself, whimpering quietly as she pressed herself into his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed her languidly, lazily, relishing the closeness she allowed him in those moments. His bollocks ached, but he pushed it away, only caring that the woman in his arms was satiated and comfortable. Her kisses slowed, and she relaxed into him further until her hand was limp against his cheek and her breathing was slow and even. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville let his eyes drift closed, his last conscious thought that he’d need to spend more time kissing her like that. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The One Where Pansy Feels Powerful</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neville shifted, vaguely aware that the warm body that had filled the space beside him was gone. Floating in the twilight that was the moment between sleep and wakefulness, he reached for her reflexively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Baby, come here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m right here.” A warm body folded back into his arms, but the voice was wrong. Opening bleary eyes, his stomach sank. He’d done it again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Pansy, not Hannah in his arms. She’d retrieved the fluffy white bathrobe from somewhere, and pulled a quilt free from the chest at the end of the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you cold?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not anymore.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her cheek, still half asleep. “What time is it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Almost two.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hummed, rolling to his back to stretch, and quickly reclaiming his spot curled around her. She didn’t object, stroking his arm almost absentmindedly. It was nice, Neville thought. Nicer still was when she rolled slightly to face him, burying her face in his bare chest. She inhaled deeply, and he held her a bit tighter, until one of her hands began to wander.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, get your work areas cleaned up, next week we’ll be working with mandrakes so remember your dragon skin gloves and your earmuffs!” Neville shouted over the low roar of his class of second years. He shook his head at the snicker that came from behind him, ignoring Pansy’s smirk as she remembered how often he managed to forget his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something funny, Miss Parkinson?” He arched an eyebrow at her, and she smiled benignly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just thinking of how often Professor Sprout got after me for reading </span>
  <em>
    <span>Witch Weekly</span>
  </em>
  <span> under the table,” Pansy chuckled, running her hand over the coarse grain of the workbench beside him as he turned to face her completely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t help but notice the way his arse was framed perfectly as he leaned back against the table, arms and ankles crossed. He looked perfectly at ease, surrounded by his plants, the students chattering behind him. He didn’t believe her for a second, but his face broke into the charming, lopsided smile that made her stomach flutter uncomfortably. She wasn’t entirely sure when he’d started giving her butterflies, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The students began to filter out, and Pansy got an idea. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“When is that detention supposed to start again?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville checked his watch. “Eh. Half hour or so. I think they’re coming from the Astronomy tower, so I’ll probably go easy on them if they’re late though.” He didn’t notice the very predatory look in her eye, and she allowed him to further clean up, moving the planters they’d been using to their places along the perimeter of the room. While he was busy, she threw a cursory glance around the room, and satisfied no students remained, locked the door with a flick of her wand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waited until he returned to his place leaning against the work table, and made her move. She stepped up in front of him, trailing her fingers up his thigh. His worn muggle blue jeans felt soft under her fingertips, and she grinned devilishly up at him when she palmed his cock through the material. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He jumped, eyes wide. She found the button of his jeans, popping it open with a flick of her wrist, and slid the zipper down.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Pans! What are you--” his question dissolved into a groan as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling them down to expose his quickly hardening cock and low-hanging bollocks. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m sorry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Professor.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She trailed her fingers over his cock, lightly caressing the length. Sinking to her knees, she looked up at him, intentionally widening her eyes in an innocent expression. “I just thought this was an ideal time to show my appreciation for a job </span>
  <em>
    <span>well done.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He looked absolutely thunderstruck, and Pansy silently celebrated catching him off guard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning her attention back to the cock in her hand, she admired it for a moment. Average length, but thick and straight, she thought it was quite pretty, as cocks go. Well defined, not too vein-y... And beautifully soft to the touch, like satin. Working his foreskin back to expose the whole head, she flicked her tongue out to taste the first few drops that welled at the tip. He gasped as the tip of her tongue made contact with the sensitive flesh, and she saw his hands grasp at the edge of the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tasted better than Marcus had, but she pulled back to get a better look at his face. His jaw hung slack, and he was breathing hard, his knuckles turning white around the table. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he bit out, and she smiled before diving back for more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave his cock another pump before releasing it in favor of cupping his bollocks, rolling them gently in her hand. The dark curls at the base of his cock were trimmed close, and she worked her fingertips through the coarse hair, earning her another low groan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She found it somewhat humorous, how powerful she could feel while on her knees. But she held him in the palm of her hand like this, and once she took him in her mouth, he’d be putty. Perhaps that’s why she decided here and now was the time-- to remind him that this was his domain, but she still held some power. She couldn’t help it. She was still a Slytherin, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But when her lips met the flushed pink head of his cock, he panted above her. She laid down open-mouthed kiss  after open-mouthed kiss, leaving none of his shaft untouched, massaging his balls with each touch of her lips. He was a mess by the time she swiped her tongue up the underside before taking him deep in her mouth, and she relished the feeling of him coming undone around her. His hand found her hair, and she hummed happily when he laced his fingers through it, but didn’t push or pull her, just seemed to anchor himself with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gods,” he gasped, and she hummed again, while simultaneously sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing around him. Using her tongue to milk the precum from his shaft, she released the pressure with a “pop,” lapping up his essence eagerly. Rolling his balls between her fingers again, his hips jerked forward. She was honestly impressed he’d stayed still the entire time, not once thrusting deeper than she’d taken him herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think I could leave a lipstick mark around the base?” The question was mostly rhetorical, she was relatively certain she could without </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>much trouble, but the look on his face was one hundred percent worth it. His eyes rolled back as he closed them, and his lips moved in what Pansy was pretty sure was a prayer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So she took him firmly in hand, bobbing up and down until his cock hit the back of her throat. Closing her lips around the base of his cock, against the close curls, she nonverbally released the impervious charm on her lipstick, leaving a bright red ring around his cock. Carefully removing her mouth as not to ruin her lipstick further, she gave him a satisfied smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty, isn’t it? I think red is definitely your color, dear.” Replacing the impervious charm on both her lips and the lipstick ring, she wondered how quickly he realized it when he tried to wash it off after he got home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wrapped her hand around his length, concentrating her oral efforts on the sensitive head. Sucking, kissing, lapping, and nipping carefully, she took her time learning what he liked, the hand in her hair and his moans giving her near-constant feedback on her performance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t much longer before his balls were drawing up and his hips were rocking in time with her sucking. He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut in ecstasy, but his half-uttered warning that he was going to cum went ignored. His release filled her mouth, and she swallowed it all, sucking him dry in the process. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He sagged against the table, releasing her hair and she pulled free, standing slowly and replacing his pants. She began to set his trousers to rights, but he surprised her by grabbing her face, and kissing her-- very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>thoroughly. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Marcus had never allowed her to kiss him after sucking him off. She thought it was bullshit, but the way Neville had kissed her, undoubtedly tasting himself on her lips, was strangely intoxicating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He only broke the kiss when a knock came at the door of the greenhouse. He swore under his breath, yanking his jeans into place and fastening them as she stepped back, running her fingers through her hair to set it to rights, hoping the frosted glass had been enough to hide their misdeeds. Or rather, </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> misdeeds. She hadn’t given him much say in the matter. And oh, what a lovely feeling that was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He unlocked the door with a flick of his wand, his cheeks still flushed and his hair falling into his eyes. “Sam. Aisling.” The two students barreled in out of the snow, both stopping dead and looking guiltily at Pansy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Miss Parkinson,” Samantha said. “Are you going to be here for all of our detentions?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well it depends. Are you going to keep needing them on nights I’m supposed to have Professor Longbottom at my disposal for wedding planning?” Pansy crossed her arms and cocked her head at the two girls. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“If I promise to try not to, will you tell me how you get your lipstick so perfect?” Aisling asked slyly, and Neville flushed pink behind them, obviously still thinking about what her perfect lipstick looked like around his cock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you and I could come to a mutually beneficial agreement, yes,” Pansy replied carefully, her Slytherin smirk mirrored in the younger girl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why is that so hot,” Sam breathed, and then a beat later realized she’d spoken aloud, and flushed the color of her Gryffindor scarf. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Great question, but I’m not answering it,” Neville interrupted Pansy and Aisling’s giggles. “Time to get to work, girls.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He busied them with a large flutterby bush that needed pruning, returning to Pansy, who’d again perched herself on the work table. “Gods, woman, I knew you had a sharp tongue but who knew it was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>talented,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he murmured, and she grinned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And who knew you’d melt into an absolute puddle over a Slytherin’s tongue?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t a </span>
  <em>
    <span>puddle,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he insisted, much to her amusement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Putty, then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god are you guys getting a puppy?” Sam had gotten closer while they’d been whispering, and now she looked thrilled at the prospect. Aisling immediately lost interest in her task, drawing closer. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville flushed pink again, and Pansy grinned. “I’d love a puppy. My parents never let me have one.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My parents breed King Charles spaniels,” Sam told them excitedly. “They’re the best!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh they’re so cute,” Pansy agreed, and Neville sighed as they dove into talks about puppies. Pansy smiled sweetly at him, making it clear that if he was going to interrupt wedding plans with detentions, she was going to interrupt detentions with whatever she saw fit. She'd take her power where she could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hand found his hip, and was drawing nearer to his cock when someone knocked on the door. Neville groaned. His bollocks were beginning to ache, and he wouldn’t be surprised to find they were blue if this kept up. Pansy was already flying out of bed in a panic, dressing in record time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should have gone to the bloody continent,” he muttered, heaving himself out of bed to find his pants as Pansy rushed to get the door. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The One Where Neville Wins Against Cordelia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have a moment of time so I can share the exciting new--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m sorry, we’re not interested.” Pansy shut the door firmly in the face of the salesman, turning around to face Neville as he emerged, pulling a T-shirt on. “I was afraid it was my mother,” she sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think your mother will try showing up unannounced.” Neville yawned, ruffling his hair with one hand. “But I’m bloody starving. Are you good with sandwiches?” He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Pansy gaping at his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you say to my mother?” The pitch of her voice rose dangerously, and she hurried after him, eyes wide. Nobody told Cordelia Avery Parkinson what to do. Nobody </span>
  <em>
    <span>dared. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She’d seen her bully Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy into submission, and her uncle Reynard had long ago given up trying to control her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ham or turkey?” Neville rummaged through the icebox, and Pansy faced him with her hands on her hips. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What did you say to her?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville set his fork carefully down as Pansy excused herself from the table. Her mother had been goading her from the moment they’d stepped through the door for their weekly family dinner, and she’d stepped away claiming she’d remembered something she needed to owl her assistant about. Cordelia looked rather smug as her daughter retreated, taking a sip from her wine glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me, how is my baby Everett doing this year?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville clenched his jaw. She didn’t actually want to talk about her youngest, who was a second year Slytherin. Neville actually quite liked the boy. He was quiet, but shared Pansy’s quick wit and bright smile when it suited him. Since the engagement, Everett had been rather guarded around Neville, as if he wasn’t sure what to expect. Neville hadn’t wanted to make it worse, so he’d let him be, determined to show him that nothing had changed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s doing quite well as far as I know,” Neville said, forcing himself to be polite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In his last letter, he mentioned that there was a rumor that Minerva would be retiring at the end of the year. Is that true?” Cordelia flashed a sickly sweet smile, and Neville had to concentrate not to roll his eyes. That rumor had been floating around since he’d been at school. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No, Minerva is quite happy where she’s at. We have no worries that she’s going anywhere,” Neville said firmly. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hmm. And yourself? You plan on continuing your post?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>There it was. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I imagine spending so much time at the school makes it rather difficult to manage other duties.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“On the contrary, actually. My position gives me quite a bit of flexibility when necessary.” Neville knew she was fishing for something, but couldn’t quite work out what she was looking for. He sat back, eying his future mother-in-law. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hair was light brown, cut in a blunt bob with a fringe that framed steel grey eyes. He could see a bit of Pansy around her mouth, but with her hair grown out, he saw little resemblance. He would never admit aloud, but he was grateful that she hadn’t inherited her body. Pansy was soft femininity and curves, while her mother’s waifish figure belonged on a fashion runway. He much preferred the way a woman’s body fit against him when they had more curves than edges. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Cordelia was all edges, though. And not just physically. In the weeks since the engagement, he and Pansy hadn’t gotten much of a chance to discuss their upbringings, but he got the impression that her mother had been strict and unyielding. He supposed Gran had been strict as well, but Cordelia was a force to be reckoned with. Pansy had reiterated on more than one occasion she didn’t share any information with her mother that wasn’t strictly necessary, and Neville was beginning to see precisely why that was wise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would just hate for my darling daughter to spend too much time alone,” she went on. “I’ll have to stop by and check on her.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you that won’t be necessary.” Neville sat a little straighter, meeting Cordelia’s gaze steadily. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Pansy is well aware that I intend on providing every comfort possible to her. That includes ensuring our marriage is </span>
  <em>
    <span>private.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” His subtle emphasis didn’t go unnoticed, and annoyance flicked across Cordelia’s face. She covered it quickly, but Neville pressed on. “So if you intend on stopping by, you’ll need to let us know well in advance. I’m sure you understand.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Cordelia laughed, a breathy, insincere sound that grated at Neville’s nerves. “Oh I don’t think Pansy would mind if I stopped by! I’m her mother, after all.” He’d really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but she was proving him correct at every turn. She had no respect for their choices or privacy, and he wasn’t going to go stand by while she continued to make Pansy feel self conscious and belittled. He hated doing it, but he played into the patriarchal pureblood traditions, knowing she couldn’t argue with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>By framing it as his own choice, she couldn’t blame Pansy unfairly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She may not, but I do. As head of our household I insist, and Pansy wouldn’t want to defy my wishes.” It was as good as bringing down an iron fist, and she knew it. He smiled benignly at her, and her own smile turned brittle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I understand that your grandmother recently returned from abroad. Is she well?” Satisfied that the issue had been put to rest for the time being, he picked up his fork and answered her question, relieved when Pansy returned. He’d won this round, but he knew it wouldn’t be the last. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just that if she wanted to come see you, she’d need to owl first.” Neville straightened, a loaf of bread and block of cheese in hand. “I made the expectation clear pretty soon after the engagement. I didn’t want you worried that she’d barge in on us. I thought it would help you feel more comfortable here.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy blinked at him, unable to comprehend what it was that he was saying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How had he known she’d been so worried? </span>
  </em>
  <span>But then, she supposed she really shouldn’t be so surprised anymore. Neville seemed to consider everything that might affect her. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take before she burst into tears again, though. He was so good to her, even though he definitely didn’t need to be. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She made a split second decision, stepping forward and sliding between him and the counter. She wrapped her arms around his middle, her face buried in his chest. He responded immediately, dropping his lunch preparations to the counter and wrapping his arms around her in return. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Thank you,” she whispered, and she felt him rest his cheek against the top of her head. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You deserve to be comfortable in your own home, Petal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>She hadn’t really considered that this was her home now, too. It had always been </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>house. But thinking about it, she realized that he’d been quietly making small changes and additions to make it hers since the day he’d gotten on one knee. From the coffee she preferred in the kitchen to the blankets tossed over the back of the sofa for when she got cold, to the fluffy white bathrobe he’d had waiting. And now to find out he’d taken steps to ensure her -- or rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>their -- </span>
  </em>
  <span>privacy, she was feeling rather overwhelmed. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“If I’d known it would get me this, I’d have told you ages ago,” he teased gently, and she squeezed him a bit tighter. She may not love him yet, but she was well on her way. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The One Where Pansy Scares the Hell Out of Neville</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Later that night, Pansy lay curled on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. Neville sat near her feet, a forgotten book in his lap, his arm draped over the back of the sofa. Lost in his thoughts, he stared out the window, the last of the pink and orange fading from the sky.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was drawn from his thoughts when she pressed her feet against his leg. Even through his trousers, he could feel how cold her feet were, and he automatically pulled the blanket free from the back of the sofa, tucking it over her. He rested his hand over her legs, tracing the curve of her ankle with a light touch.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?” Pansy had set aside her magazine, and was watching him with a tender expression. A year ago, he didn’t know if he’d have believed it. But now… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That week in November.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville stepped through the floo,  clutching a short message in his fist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been with his third years when he’d gotten it, and had been so busy wrangling them and the bouncing bulbs they were supposed to be harvesting that he hadn’t gotten to read it until he’d gotten back to his office just as dinner was supposed to be starting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>N-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve taken ill, we need to cancel dinner. I’ll send you an owl when I’ve recovered. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>-<em>P</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy was the type to work through everything, and he knew she had pepperup on hand, but she’d been acting </span>
  <em>
    <span>off </span>
  </em>
  <span>all week. So he’d spoken with Septima Vector, and arranged for her to take his evening patrols in case Pansy needed anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy!” The sitting room was empty, and so was the kitchen and dining room. She was a thoroughly tidy person, but there wasn’t a sign of her anywhere. He peeked through the rooms until he made it to her bedroom, knocking softly on the door frame. When there was no answer, he poked his head in, almost expecting it to be empty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was tidy, but he’d expected nothing less. What he hadn’t expected was the enormous pile of blankets that formed a small mountain in the center of her bed. He’d almost moved on, but a tiny whimper came from the depths of the mound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy?” Neville moved closer, finding her dark hair splayed over the pillow. Just peeking out of the clovers, her face was pale against the shades of blue that made up her bedding. Another soft whimper escaped her lips, and he was reaching out, pushing her hair back from her forehead. Her skin burned under his fingers, but she leaned into it, like she was searching out his touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy, wake up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned towards the sound of his voice, but her eyes remained resolutely closed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy, honey, wake up.” Again, she only let out a pitiful whine. Neville’s heart jumped to his throat, and his pulse began to race. He pulled back the covers, and a tremor wracked her body, despite the heavy blankets and her flannel pyjamas. “Pans, wake up. Please wake up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neville?” Her eyes remained closed, and it was mumbled, but he was sure it was his name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy, open your eyes. Come on. Let me see those pretty blue eyes.” His hands felt like ice, and he wanted to scream. He reached over, tugging her top down where it had bunched up, exposing a small sliver of her abdomen. She whined as if she was in pain when he rested his hand on her curve of her waist though, and he jerked his hand away, afraid of hurting her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neville,” she mumbled again, her voice rough. “I want Neville.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, I’m just going to go call your mum. It—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes opened, and she clawed at him, gasping. “No!” Her eyes darted wildly around the room, and Neville instinctively pulled her into his chest, carefully keeping his hands on her back over her pyjamas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shhh. It’s okay, Pansy it’s just me.” Neville was bewildered by her reaction, but she sagged against him, and he was afraid to let her go. Shifting to work his wand out of his pocket, he took a deep breath, letting the smell of her hair fill his lungs; cherries and violets steadied him, and he steeled himself further. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She needs this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s for her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And then for the first time since Hannah’s death, a lion sprang from the end of his wand, shaking its silvery mane and pacing the length of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Susan I need you and Ernie at Pansy’s place. It’s an emergency,” he spoke clearly to the prowling predator. It dissolved, and he was left holding Pansy with shaking hands. Her grip on his jumper slackened, and his heart pounded painfully in his throat as the seconds ticked by. He studied her, noting the way her hair stuck to her neck above the collar of her pyjamas, and the printed constellations in bright silver over the navy fabric. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He summoned a flannel from her bathroom, wetting it carefully with his wand and pressing it to her forehead. He didn’t know if it would help, but he remembered his gran doing it whenever he was sick and feverish as a child. He tucked the blanket more firmly around her when she began to shiver, and considered sending a second patronus to Poppy if he didn’t hear from Susan </span>
  <em>
    <span>soon. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Several minutes later, though it felt like hours, he heard the floo, and then a tentative, “Neville? Pansy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy didn’t even stir at his yell, and he brushed her damp hair back from her forehead. She looked so pale. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong—“ There was a sharp intake of breath, as Susan cut herself off. Neville glanced up to see Ernie push past Susan. He must’ve caught them in the middle of something at the Leaky, because they were both in Muggle jeans, and it looked like Ernie had white paint up his arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He approached Neville, and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Go with Sue and have a spot of tea. I’ve got her, mate.” Neville wanted to tell him to fuck off, he wasn’t going to leave her, not again, but he knew by experience the man had few qualms over physically removing anyone that got between him and a patient, so he nodded jerkily, and let the healer take his place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan reached for Neville, pulling him down the hall towards Pansy’s spotless kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She owled me to say she was ill this morning, I came by to check on her because she never—“ Neville swallowed hard, kicking himself for not coming earlier. “I had classes and—“ his voice broke, and he sat heavily in one of the chairs at the table, burying his face in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan stood beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “She’s going to be fine, Nev. This isn’t like Hannah.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville had been trying to push the thought away since he’d first stepped into Pansy’s flat, but Susan’s reassurance broke the dam, and a strangled sob escaped him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He couldn’t watch Pansy waste away like he’d watched Hannah die. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shhh. Darling it’s okay.” She stroked his hair as he leaned into her, and cried. “Ernie’s taking care of her. She’ll be okay.” He didn’t notice, but tears of her own slipped down her face, dripping into his hair. Hannah had been her best friend, and she and Neville had mourned her loss together for the better part of two years. She didn’t know how Pansy, who might as well have been Hannah’s polar opposite, had managed to wrap Neville around her finger in three short months, but it had been nice to see him more like himself lately. She swore to herself that she’d make more of an effort with Pansy, if only to make it easier on Neville. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Am I just cursed?” Neville whispered, and Susan shook her head emphatically, squeezing him tightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. It wasn’t your fault Hannah was sick. And it’s not your fault that Pansy is ill, either. But Pansy is going to be fine. She’s healthy, strong. And we’ve got the best damn healer in the country with her.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville nodded, and Susan wiped her own face with the back of her hand. “Tea. Come on now.” She moved around the kitchen as if she owned the place, and Neville was content to let her be. He stared out the window over the city, the grey clouds mocking him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Half an hour later a cup of tea sat before him, the delicately painted roses on the teacup reminding him painfully of the woman that lay in the next room. Daphne had told him once that roses were her favorite, though she’d never admit it. She’d cried out at one point, and Susan had physically blocked the door to keep Neville in the kitchen. Now he just stared out the window, watching pitiful raindrops hit the glass at random intervals. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nev.” Ernie’s usually jovial tone was missing, and Neville looked around slowly. He had one arm wrapped tightly around Susan’s waist, the other shoved in his pocket. “I’ve gotta take Pansy to Mungo’s. Her appendix is dangerously inflamed, and it needs to be removed.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville couldn’t breathe as he continued. “I already communicated with them, they’ll be waiting for us. She’s awake though, and wants to talk to you. She’s had some pain reliever, so don’t be surprised if she's a bit more… open than normal.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville didn’t even bother saying anything, just rushed from the kitchen, only slowing when he reached the door to her room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy?” Poking his head in, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, still looking impossibly pale. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said, her voice hoarse and tired. “I feel awful,” she whispered, and Neville drew closer, unsure of where he stood with her. He wanted to hold her again, but he didn’t think she’d be as accepting when she was fully awake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to be fine but please promise me you won’t call my mother. I’ll let her know what happened when it’s over.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed like an odd request, but he nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to come, I can call Daphne but—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy, stop right there.” Neville pushed a hand through his hair, trying to sort through his thoughts and feelings. She stopped, looking too tired to argue. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, then spoke slowly. “Unless you tell me that you don’t want me there, I’m going with you, I’m coming back with you, and I’ll be here until you’re 100% recovered. You can order me around like a house elf, but I’m not leaving until you’re either well again, or you’ve decided that you hate me and we need to break the engagement.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t expect her to take it without argument, but to his surprise, she nodded, and looked… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Relieved? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. “Ernie said I would have been a lot worse off if you hadn’t come and called him. Why did you come?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would have done it for any of my friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that what we are, then? Just friends that are getting married?” Pansy’s eyes, though open wide, looked clouded, and Neville remembered what Ernie had said about the pain potion. He took a chance, and sat beside her on the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want us to be? Friends? Acquaintances that live in the same house? Lovers?” He rested his hand on her thigh, palm up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She surprised him again by slipping her hand into his. It was so much warmer than normal, and Neville wondered how much time they had before Ernie came in and told them it was time to go. “Can we start with friends, and work up to lovers from there? I don’t think my parents were any more than acquaintances and I don’t want that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the most she’d offered up about her parents or their tenuous relationship yet, and Neville squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t want that either. So I think that’s a good plan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head, still holding her hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm the one that I was sicker than a crup and too stubborn to admit it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the one.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I swear I’m not sick this time so what has you thinking about that?” Pansy cocked her head at him, and he frowned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what made me think of it. I suppose I’m just glad you’re okay now. You gave me a right good scare and I’d rather not repeat the experience.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy tossed her head back and laughed, earning a smile from Neville. “Yes sir. Next time one of my organs revolts you’ll be the first to know.” She turned back to her magazine, and Neville brushed his hand along her ankle again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What had made him think of that? </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The One with the Annoying Brother and Dirt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pansy flipped through </span>
  <em>
    <span>Witch Weekl</span>
  </em>
  <span>y, but she didn’t seem as if she was paying much attention to it. In fact, it seemed that she was spending far more time focusing on the way he touched her than the periodical at hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He watched with interest out of the corner of his eye when he brushed his fingers innocently down the curve of her calf. She squeezed her thighs together and rolled her hips, as if she were trying to ward off the growing need to be touched, filled, pleasured. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville grasped her ankle in his hand. She was so delicate. So breakable. He could see her nipples pressing though the silk of her babydoll, and he clamped down around his desires. Desire to mark her. Dominate her. Own her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pansy,” he warned, and he met her eyes, pupils blown wide. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes sir?” Her breathy acknowledgement stirred something deep within him, tugging at his aching groin.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t start something you’re not willing to finish,” he growled, and her magazine dropped to the floor in a rustle of glossy pages.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I want it,” she whispered. Neville hesitated for a moment. Just a single, fleeting movement, but disappointment flitted across her face, and Neville knew. A moment later and she was pinned against the sofa, both of her wrists trapped in one of Neville’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Beg.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The order flashed through Pansy’s eyes, and he could practically taste her outrage, but against all odds, she lowered her eyes. “Please fuck me sir.” She peered up through her eyelashes, and Neville’s cock twitched. “Use me. Please, sir, I want you. I need you to fill me up.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville had to breathe through his nose to keep from sinking his teeth into her, and he rolled his hips against hers. Her whimper was music to his ears, and he wanted more. He dropped his head to mouth at her taut nipple, pressing tantalizingly against the rich silk of her pyjamas. She whined, and Neville nipped at her, eliciting a quiet gasp. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to tie you up, Petal. Would you like that? Knowing you’re in my hands?” He trailed a line of kisses across her collarbone, and a shudder wracked her body. “I know you’ve been curious since this morning, Petal. Don’t be shy.”  Her breathing was uneven now, and Neville laid an open-mouthed kiss to the base of her neck. “Colour?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Green,” she panted, and Neville smiled against her skin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good girl, Petal. Now I’m going to let go, and you’re going to go to our room, and lay in the middle of our bed on your back.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville released her hands, trailing his fingers down the sensitive underside of her arm and across her nipple for good measure before standing. He stood back, positioned himself in a wide stance, and watched her sit up slowly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Gods she was sexy like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Her hair was a mess of waves, and the fabric that clung to her breast, still damp from his mouth, highlighted how perky her breasts were. It took him a considerable amount of self control to stay put, allowing her to dazedly make her way to the bedroom, pausing to throw him a look over her shoulder that, had he not had his feet firmly planted, would have brought him to his knees. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gave her several minutes, knowing full well how the anticipation would build. He had to adjust his cock in his pants, and it was only the thought of making Pansy watch him without being able to touch that kept him from shedding his trousers all together. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he’d deemed enough time had passed, he made his way into the bedroom, stopping to ensure all the doors were locked and the wards were in place. He didn’t intend to leave their bed again tonight. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t told her to, but in the door way lay a scrap of lace, and just beyond, a pool of purple silk. His cock throbbed insistently when his eyes fell on Pansy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was completely naked, laid out on the duvet like a Greek goddess ready to be worshiped. And Neville was going to worship her. Every inch of her body was now his to adore, to touch and kiss. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His cock twitched in his pants, and he resisted the urge to palm and stroke it. His balls ached from being denied, but he didn’t know how long he’d last, and he wanted this to draw this out. She was watching him warily, and he was determined to shift that look to one of bliss before the night was over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so pretty, Petal.” He stepped forward slowly, letting her take in every move he made. Her pupils were dilated, only slivers of blue showing. A flick of his wand, and a neatly tied bunch of rope fell into his hand. It was smooth, and a lovely shade of deep red that echoed the colour of her favorite lipstick. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold your hands out. Wrists together.” The commands came easily, despite the time that had passed since he’d last used them. She offered her hands obediently, and he stood with one knee pressed into the mattress, and the familiar motions of tying the knots kept him present. Her carefully checked her circulation and the pressure on her soft skin. “Hands up above your head.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She bit her lip, but raised her hands so they lay flat on the mattress. He secured the loose ends of the rope to the headboard with his wand, and stepped back. “Colour?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Green.” Her voice sounded thin, breathless, but she was pressing her thighs together again, and Neville was confident she’d voice her objections if she had any. He stayed where he was, letting his eyes wander down her body. The red was a beautiful contrast against her pale skin, and the loops of rope looked absolutely tantalizing around her delicate wrists. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With her arms secured upwards, her breasts were on full display, nipples pink and peeked. Sometime soon he was going to introduce her to nipple clamps, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Her stomach was perfectly rounded, meeting her smooth mound and thighs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so gorgeous like this. If I had my way you’d never leave this bed.” Neville trailed his fingers along her thigh, and she shivered, goose flesh raising over her legs. Her chest was heaving, her breaths coming it short, shallow pants, and she was silently pleading with her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He reached up, grabbing the back of his shirt under the collar with one hand to pull it off and toss it aside. He could see Pansy’s eyes roaming his torso appreciatively, and he couldn’t help the smile, remembering the first time she’d looked at him like that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everett, knock it off!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The twelve year old boy just grinned at his sister’s scolding.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Professor Longbottom isn’t afraid of a little dirt,” he challenged, and resumed flinging dirt clods skyward from the flowerbed that ran in front of the Parkinson family manor. “Professor Longbottom isn’t afraid of anything,” he added much more quietly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not at school, you can call me Neville,” he reminded the boy, but Everett pulled a face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s weird.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s bloody weird to hear him called ‘Professor’ but you don’t hear me whining about it,” Pansy grumbled darkly from where she perched on the edge of a large decorative vase. Neville smothered a smile and leaned over the flutterby bush he was planting, smoothing the fresh soil over the root ball. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But them when we go back to school next month I’m going to have to remember to call him Professor again. It’s bad enough that my sister is dating a professor, and it would be awful to slip and call him Neville like the time you called Professor Sinistra—“ his reasoning was cut short by a tongue-tie jinx cast by an irate Pansy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut. Up. Or go. Away.” She lifted the jinx and he made a face, but didn’t say anything as he began tossing dirt clods in high arcs again. “And we’re not dating.” She crossed her arms and glared at her brother. “We’re considering an advantageous match.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville figured he’d find the time to share just how often he’d slipped and called Minerva “Gran” during his school days later, so he let it go. Instead of trying not to stare at Pansy, who was obviously uncomfortable with the current arrangements, he focused his attention on the bush, trying to make sure it wasn’t planted too deeply. Unfortunately, that meant he didn’t see the dirt clod coming, until it exploded over the back of his head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dirt particles tumbled down the back of his shirt as he straightened, and he grimaced. Everett looked at him with wide eyes, and Neville pinned him with a patented teacher stare. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry Professor!” Everett obviously didn’t think he’d get off any easier by his sister, because he was halfway across the lawn, headed towards where Pansy’s mother and Gran were waiting for tea on the veranda. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville bushed as much of it out of his hair as he could with one hand, though it just sent more dirt down his shirt. Pansy looked positively mortified, and Neville couldn’t help but laugh. She looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head, but he just shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not wrong, I’m not afraid of a little dirt.” He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, the gritty sensation of the soil slipping down his back getting increasingly unpleasant the further it went. “But I should probably go clean up before joining the ladies for tea.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pansy nodded quickly, motioning him to follow her. “He’s a menace, I’m so sorry—“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pansy, it’s fine. I’ve had much worse.” Neville had long ago lost track of the disgusting substances he’d been covered in while working in the greenhouses. “It just itches is all.” He could see her jaw tighten, but she didn’t say anything as she left him down a long hallway and up a staircase before showing him to a large bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you need to shower to get it all off, there’s towels in the cupboard and I can have one of the house elves make sure your clothes are clean or go get you a fresh set, they’re—“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pansy, it’s fine. Please don’t worry.” He was beginning to sound like a broken record, but she seemed so nervous— a far cry from the self-assured girl he’d known in school. Part of him had wondered if it was because of the day she’d found out of her father’s death, but he wasn’t going to bring it up if she wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll just—“ she cut herself off, waving vaguely in the opposite direction. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be quick and we can go to tea,” he assured her, and he thought he saw her nod. He shut the door carefully behind him, and quickly stripped, dry soil and small bits of rock and dead plant matter dusting the sparkling clean tile at his feet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t planned to shower until he saw the streaks of mud across the back of his neck where the dirt had mixed with beads of sweat that had gathered under the August sun. Retrieving a towel, he flicked on the shower and stepped into the cool spray, a quick rinse ridding him of the grime that clung to his skin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stepping out, he found his clothes cleaned and neatly folded in a pile on the sink. The house elves had worked fast, not that it had surprised him in the slightest. He pulled his pants and jeans back on, but was still barefoot and bare-chested when someone knocked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door swung open, revealing an irritated-looking Pansy. Her irritation was short-lived however, because her eyes got wide, and she seemed to forget what she was going to say as she took in his chest, still glittering with tiny droplets from his shower. Neville spent most of his time at home without a shirt on, but he hadn’t had a woman examine him like that since Hannah. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She seemed to drink him in, her eyes jumping from his water-speckled shoulders to the sharp-cut vee of his abdominals that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. She stood frozen in the door, and Neville tried not to shift uncomfortably under her roaming gaze. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I get the stamp of approval for an advantageous match,” he joked after several long seconds, and she flushed, looking sharply away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I— They— Tea is in five minutes,” she finally bit out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok I’m almost done here,” he told her, pulling his shirt back over his head and ruffling his damp hair in an effort to get it to lay correctly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Great. I’ll meet you downstairs then.” Before he could tell her to wait, she’d disappeared down the hall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her pupils were blown wide with lust, and Neville didn’t think he’d ever get tired of being looked at like that. Like he was her dirty dreams come true. He didn’t miss the tension in her arms as she tried to reach for him, though her bindings kept her securely in place. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sound of dissatisfaction came from the back of her throat, and he left his shirt slide through his fingers to the floor before easing the zip to his jeans down. They slid to the floor, and Pansy’s breathing grew even more ragged. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My sweet Petal. You like what you see, don’t you?” She nodded rather enthusiastically, and Neville treated her by dropping his shorts, allowing his cock to bob free. He stroked himself slowly, tugging gently at his balls, trying to relieve the pressure that had been building since before she’d invaded his shower earlier. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He crawled up the bed, kneeled between her thighs, and sucked a nipple into his mouth. The tantalizing feel of her soft skin overrode his desire to take his time, and based on her whimpering pleas, she didn’t mind. At her first coherent “please fuck me,” he slid into her and groaned at the tight heat of her passage engulfing him. He sucked hard on her nipples as he slammed into her, the keening cries from Pansy urging him on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few hard thrusts, he slowed, reaching between them to flick at her clit as he filled her and rolled a nipple around his tongue. She thrashed beneath him, pulling at the ropes that held her. She thrust her hips up to meet his, grinding her hips against his hand to increase the friction on her clit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neville couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to losing control. He’d kept himself on a tight leash with Pansy, and Hannah had been sick for so long… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shoved the thought away, focusing on the woman beneath him. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, every muscle in her body taunt. “Look at me, Petal,” he commanded, and her eyes popped open. Her brilliant eyes were dazed, and Neville lowered himself to his elbow, still stimulating her with his other hand. They were nose to nose now, but it was Pansy to close the distance and crash their mouths together. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pansy’s kiss was desperate, devouring, but it slowed as her orgasm neared. Like the night before, she was so tight around his cock he could barely move, but he could feel her body chasing the release. “Come for me, Petal,” he whispered into her mouth, and it was like he’d hit the magic button. Shudders rolled through her body in time with his flicks to her clit, and her lips stopped moving against his. Her back arched into his chest, and with her milking his cock like that, he gladly gave it to his own release. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pumped into her, hips slowing with each shot of come that relieved the pressure in his groin. Still buried to the hilt in her sweet warmth, he kissed her again before muttering the incantation to release the ropes against her throat. The ropes fell away from her arms, and Neville sat up, ignoring the satisfied sleepiness that washed over him. He carefully checked Pansy’s skin for abrasions and massaged the muscles in her arms. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you feel?” He kept his eyes on where he carefully rubbed her wrists, but he tried to pick out her expression in his peripheral vision. She hadn’t said anything, and Neville was afraid that he’d gone too far, too soon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pansy’s voice had a dreamy quality that reminded him of Luna’s when she answered. “Amazing.” He chuckled, lowering her arms for her. She rolled her shoulders half-heartedly, and traced the impressions left by the rope with one finger. Neville summoned another mild pain potion, and filled the glass at her bedside with his wand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“In case you need them,” he told her, reaching across her to deposit the potion on her nightstand. He was surprised though, when she wrapped her arms around his, tucking it firmly into her body. Neville looked over to find her watching him, a content, sleepy smile on her lips. He lay down beside her, flicked off the lights, and pulled the covers around them. He kissed her shoulder, and tightened his arm around her briefly. “Goodnight, Petal.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was nearly asleep, hovering somewhere on the twilight edge of unconsciousness when she spoke. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad I married you. Goodnight darling.” Her lips brushed his bicep where it crossed her chest, and Neville wanted to say something,but was too far lost to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In the morning, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself, but by the next morning, he didn’t remember what she’d said. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The One With the Cake Consultation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Are you seriously--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What is the point of being an adult if you can’t have cake for breakfast?” Neville asked through a mouthful of sponge and frosting. Pansy blinked at him, and he covered his mouth, struggling to swallow before he laughed and spewed crumbs everywhere. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Mariana </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>be disappointed if her masterpiece went to waste,” Pansy said slowly, smirking at Neville over the massive slice of cake between them. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m in no hurry to upset Mariana again,” Neville agreed, and loaded his fork with a fresh bite, leaning over to offer it to Pansy. Pansy bit her lip, thinking how appalled her mother would be to see her now, and opened her mouth, allowing Neville to feed her the bite with a cheeky wink. The rich white chocolate decoration mingled with the Italian limoncello on her tongue, and she closed her eyes, savoring the flavors. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wedding had been such a whirlwind she hadn’t gotten to properly appreciate the cake, but she really needed to send Mariana a thank you. Opening her eyes, she found Neville examining her closely, and she immediately felt self-conscious. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Just thinking about the day at Cobra de Peluche. I thought you’d call the whole thing off right there and then.” He gathered another bite and lifted it between them. Pansy could see each individual poppy seeds speckling the cake, and she remembered the day he talked about with astounding clarity.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m late,” Pansy said, struggling to keep her breathing even. Her appointment with a bride and her mother getting married  in January had gone long, and she’d been rushing to make it to the cake shop. Cobra de Peluche was the best bakery in Diagon, but getting an appointment was near impossible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unless you were Pansy, that is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No worries, she’s not here yet.” Neville again greeted her with a soft kiss on the cheek, and Pansy felt her face warm, even in the cool October air. She still didn’t know if he did it because he thought it was expected or because he wanted to. She hadn’t seen him since her rather graceless exit from his office earlier that week, and she still felt as if she didn’t know precisely where they stood in terms to the intimacy of their arrangement. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Pansy fidgeted with her cloak rather than looking up at him, and was relieved when she heard Mariana’s voice coming from behind her. She turned to find the baker chatting rapidly to her husband, who was carrying a large stack of boxes. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Sarge!” Matteo Romero interrupted his wife upon seeing Neville. Balancing the boxes on the low wall in front of the shop, he greeted Neville with a hug and several solid claps on the back. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Matt, I’m not your sergeant anymore,” Neville laughed, returning the man’s embrace and turning to Mariana. “Bom dia, Mariana! Tudo bem?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mariana likewise embraced Neville, and said something in rapid Portuguese that Pansy didn’t quite catch. She did catch the sharp smack across Neville’s arm, and the sweet baker’s fists on her hips, however. Pansy wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her looking so confrontational when one of her cakes wasn’t involved.  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have had fresh ovos-moles waiting for you! Matteo, go! Go, go. We have work to do!” She shooed her husband through the door of the bakery, and finally turned to Pansy. “Ms Parkinson! If you had told me it was for Neville, I would have made time sooner!” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were acquainted.” Pansy was still in shock at the warm greeting Neville had received from the couple. Mariana had always been the picture of professionalism. It was part of why Pansy preferred to use her, not to mention her cakes were absolutely divine. She’d yet to find a baker who was as talented as the young Portuguese woman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Matteo was one of the constables under me before I retired from the MLE,” Neville explained. “Mariana used us to test out her new creations before bringing them to the shop.” He grinned like a  third year visiting Honeyduke’s for the first time. It finally dawned on her that Matteo was included in the list of potential groomsmen. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And then Neville had to go and leave me without my best test subject,” Mariana sniffed. “You haven’t been over for dinner in ages either. I should be offended. And getting married? You did not even tell me you were dating again! Who is the lucky bride? Do we know her?” Mariana’s deep brown eyes sparkled, and Neville rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Out with it, Neville! And do not dare try to tell me it was in the papers, you know I do not read that rubbish.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s been rather quick,” he said, and doubt welled in Pansy’s stomach. Would he be ashamed to tell his friends that she was his intended? “But it sounds like you know her well.” Neville glanced and Pansy, and held his hand out to her. She accepted his outreached hand, the angle putting her ring on full display. “Pansy agreed to marry me last month.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy saw the shock in Mariana’s face, but she covered it quickly. “I’m glad you finally took my advice,” she teased Pansy gently. “After so many weddings, you deserve your own.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy tried to smile, but knew it fell a bit flat when Mariana cocked her head.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Come in, come in,” she said suddenly, opening the bakery door and ushering them inside. Pansy always loved attending meetings here. It was warm and smelled sweet, chocolate and vanilla mingling with fruit and fresh flowers she used to decorate her creations. Mariana showed them to a table near the window, surrounded by bouquets and a towering cake framed from behind in a gold baroque mirror. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville offered a chair to her before sitting beside her, waiting patiently as she withdrew the notebook she’d filled with notes and potential sketches. Mariana flicked her wand, and a tea tray floated out of the kitchen, where Pansy could hear Matteo crashing around. Mariana rolled her eyes good naturedly, and pulled out her own sketchbook to take notes. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Did you get the list my office sent--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yes, but I don’t need it.” Mariana was already sketching away, but held the notebook at an angle so Pansy couldn’t see what she was doing. “A June wedding, yes?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with being caught off guard. “Yes. We were thinking--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Light, fruit or floral,” Mariana interrupted her again without looking up. “Elegant. Timeless.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy blinked, glancing at Neville, who shrugged. “Yes, but--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Colours?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Green, gold, and navy,” Pansy answered tightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Mariana shook her head, still sketching, her pencil flying over the page in broad strokes. “Green is too ambiguous. Sage, I think.” She pointed the end of her pencil at Neville. “Emerald would be wrong with his eyes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy became aware that her mouth was working soundlessly, and she snapped it shut, irritation swelling at the baker. Mariana glanced up, arching an eyebrow. “You tell your brides to let you make the difficult decisions, no?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy narrowed her eyes, not sure where Mariana was going with this. “Yes, but--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And yet here you are, with no one to make the difficult decisions for you. Are you sure you’re here as a bride?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy felt the heat rush to her cheeks, and she glared at the other woman, even as Neville gaped at Mariana’s uncharacteristically sharp tone. “I am perfectly capable--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Neville. Stop staring like that. Go find the plushie and I’ll give you a cookie. Go!” She flicked her wrist at Neville, who saluted the woman and slipped out of his chair without a word. Pansy started to object, the hidden stuffed serpent was meant to be a distraction for children, not the grooms, but Mariana was snapping her sketchbook shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course you are capable,” Mariana said, her voice softening considerably. “I cannot think of a single person more so than you. You demand perfection, yes?” She waited until Pansy nodded before continuing. “Then trust me. When have I ever failed you?” Brown eyes bore into hers, and Pansy finally sighed. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Never.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Mariana agreed smugly. “I’ve worked with you for years, do you really think I wouldn’t know your preferences? I still can’t believe you allowed that monstrosity at the Larson wedding last year. I was hoping you’d spare me from all that orange.” She shuddered, and Pansy allowed a smile to slip through. The cake had been magnificent, but it had indeed been done solely in shades of orange. Somehow Mariana had made it work, though. As she always did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now tell me. How did this come to be? I didn’t think Neville would ever--” She cut herself off, her pencil stilling. “I mean to say that he was very devoted,” she said softly, and Pansy bit her lip. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s arranged, by our families,” Pansy said after a brief silence. “Neville allowed his grandmother to find a match, someone to carry on the family line. A business arrangement of sorts.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And yet it is more than a business arrangement, isn’t it?” Mariana asked softly, and Pansy caught sight of Neville through a large bouquet behind her, reaching over his head, pulling his shirt taut across his shoulders. He was undoubtedly attractive, but was there more?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I don’t know,” she admitted. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“He would not have agreed if it was not. I watched him care for Hannah through her illness. A man with a heart like his would not settle if there was not love there, or the potential for it.” Mariana let her words hang, the soft scratching of her pencil filling the silence between them, as crashing continued from the kitchen. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy flipped through her notebook to busy herself, and quickly came to the conclusion that Mariana was correct. “It has to be sage,” she agreed begrudgingly, and Mariana smiled. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Noting the change, she didn’t notice the figure sneaking up behind her until a feather light touch dragged across the side of her neck. She jumped and swore, cringing away from the tail of the stuffed snake Neville held. He laughed heartily as Pansy swatted the toy away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gottcha,” he told her with a wink, and Pansy rolled her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just for that, I get a bite of your prize cookie,” she told him as he retook his seat beside her. He dropped the toy to the table, and rested his arm along the back of her chair, </span>
  <span>the warmth from his arm leaching into her blouse immediately. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Deal.” His hazel eyes sparkled as he smiled at her, and Pansy allowed herself to wonder if he really could love her some day. It was a pointless thought, she would be marrying him either way, but it sounded nice to have someone that truly loved her on her side for once. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cookies after cake,” Mariana told them. “I have four for you to try.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I thought we picked three,” Neville said, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion. Pansy wouldn’t ever admit it, but she thought it was charming. It reminded her of the boy he’d been before the war. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Mariana snorted. “Like I said, if I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have bothered. Now. The first is passionfruit and rum sponge with vanilla bean buttercream.” She flicked her wand, and a small plate with a piece of cake floated forward, two small forks alongside it. It came to rest between Pansy and Neville, and they each took a fork, trying a small corner of the cake. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Gods that’s divine,” Pansy muttered, and Neville nodded enthusiastically beside her. Mariana looked smug, and withdrew the cake before Neville could steal a second bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“The next is lavender honey sponge with lavender buttercream.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville approved of this one, while Pansy vehemently disagreed. “It reminds me of that tea Umbridge used,” she told him, and he immediately lost his taste for it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next was a vanilla sponge with a mango mousse filling, and again, they both agreed it was heavenly. Pansy was noting the two they liked in her notebook when the final slice was revealed. Neville took a bite of the Italian lemon poppyseed with a lemon curd filling and limoncello buttercream. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Holy--” Neville groaned beside her, and immediately took another forkful, offering it to Pansy. It seemed so intimate, letting him feed her a piece of cake that she hesitated. He met her eyes, and gave her a small, encouraging smile. Pushing away her insecurities, she opened her mouth and let him place the cake-laden fork on her tongue. She immediately knew why he thought she couldn’t wait, and nodded before the buttercream even dissolved on her tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville grinned. “That’s it. That’s the one we want.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Mariana rolled her eyes. “I know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because of that damn snake?” Pansy rolled her shoulder, rubbing away the memory of the tickle at her neck. She hadn’t worn her hair up in a twist for weeks after that. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No I thought you were going to murder Mariana when she ignored your plans,” Neville laughed. “I’ve known her for years and I’ve never seen her like that. What did she say to you after she ordered me away, anyway?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To trust her,” Pansy said simply. She didn’t mention that it was the first time she’d even considered that Neville could grow to love her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville hummed, taking another bite for himself. “Glad we did. But I’m ruined for Aunt Enid’s lemon cake forever.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He offered her another bite, and she took it, moaning in a very suggestive way as she did. She wasn’t mad when his lips were on hers before she opened her eyes again. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed to send Mariana a thank you card. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Huge thank you to Mariana_Monteverde for the inspiration and the Portuguese lessons. Love you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The One With Neville Waiting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neville tugged on the sleeves of his shirt and smoothed down the blue oxford, but his eyes were on the witch’s reflection in the mirror. Pansy sat on the edge of the bed, delicately fastening the buckle of her high heeled shoe around her ankle. She sat up, and caught his eye in the mirror, arching one brow in a silent question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” Neville purposefully ignored her unasked question, and she stood with a nod. She stood directly in front of him, reaching up to straighten his collar, and he rested his hands automatically on her hips. Had he not witnessed it himself, he wasn’t sure he would have believed the drastic change in their relationship over the last week. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He didn’t know if it was the act of giving her the punishment that she’d apparently thought she deserved, or the release of any expectations on her now they were wed, but whatever it was, he liked it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slid her hands down his chest from his collar, leaning into his hold briefly, and he caught a whiff of cherries from her hair. He tightened his grip on the curve of her waist, and she sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it, or we’re going to be late.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Stop what?” He tightened his grip further, drawing her flush against his body. Despite her protest, she melted into him, and her arms slipped around his waist. In her heels, it was easier to bury his nose in her sweet-smelling hair, and he let his eyes close as she filled his senses with everything so distinctly </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pansy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on. Your mum will never forgive me if you’re not on time.” She tilted her head back and gave him a soft kiss, and Neville wanted to hold her there and not let her go. His mum wouldn’t mind. But she stepped back, and Neville let his fingers slide over the soft fabric of her dress. She took his hand as they left their bedroom, and Neville’s heart swelled. Had it only been days ago that she would only hold his hand if he took it first?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>They stepped through the floo, and out into the family area of St Mungo’s Janus Thickney Ward. Pansy immediately took his hand again, and he was so absorbed in the feeling of awe that he nearly missed Isadora’s greeting. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The healer wore a knowing smirk when he shook his head and apologised. She laughed. “It’s good to see you happy. Alice and Frank are having a good day, too. They’re in the conservatory.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville thanked her, and led Pansy down the long hallway to the conservatory, passing by the plaque with his parent’s names engraved in silver. After the war he’d used a fair chunk of change to donate and create this space for them, and he’d been rewarded with seeing his parents’ “good” days increase dramatically. The space was open, filled with greenery and a piano played softly in the background. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy released his hand to greet his father, and Neville stood back to watch how gently she interacted with them. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hi Frank,” she said softly, taking both his hands in hers and kissing his cheek. The tremor in his hands lessened as she knelt beside his chair. “I hope you didn’t have too hard of a time after the wedding, I know it was a lot of people, but we were so glad you could be there.” Frank seemed to focus on their hands, and nodded. That was a good sign. Pansy squeezed his hands gently. “Let me go say hello to Alice, and I’ll come back and we can talk, alright?” She stood and released his hands, but Frank continued to nod amiably. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy made a beeline for the far corner, where Alice’s favorite chair was within sight of the baby grand piano that was charmed to play quietly. Neville followed at a distance, watching Pansy greet Alice with a soft touch to her shoulder. Alice looked around, and a smile graced her face, making her look younger, and Neville’s heart ached. He wished he’d gotten to see more of her smile before her mind was stolen away from her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy brushed a lock of white hair from his mother’s eyes, and his throat grew tight watching her smile and talk to Alice as if they were old friends. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Did I tell you that Neville and I are going to repaint the hallway? I’m hoping a cream will help brighten it up a bit. I think Neville put it off for so long because he didn’t want to strip that wallpaper, but he hasn’t said no to me yet,” she said in a stage whisper, glancing at Neville with a wink. Alice hummed happily, swaying side to side as Pansy spoke to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He retreated, leaving them to their gossip. He joined his father, settling into a chair and speaking to him quietly. A while later, Pansy returned, sitting beside Frank and diving into a detailed account of how Everett and Poppy were fairing. He left them to it, finding Alice humming tunelessly in the same corner Pansy had found her earlier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Mum,” he told her, sitting on the floor beside her legs rather than on the chair beside her. She carded her fingers through his hair, still humming, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you go see your parents? I’ll come find you myself when she’s out.” Ernie stood before him in theatre blues, a flimsy white curtain separating them from where Pansy lay in a hospital bed, a mediwitch administering potions and casting monitoring spells over her. Neville remembered the feeling of being helpless on this side of the curtain all too well, and he had to keep reminding himself it was Pansy, not Hannah on the other side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Nev, man. Go see your mum. Don’t sit down here and stew. I give you my word I’ll take good care of her.” Ernie met Neville’s eyes, and he eventually acquiesced. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Fine. I’ll be with them, but if anything--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’ll be the first to know, per her request.” Ernie held up a sheaf of papers, and Neville’s eyes burned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was this really what she wanted? To make Neville her power of attorney before they were even married? Did she really trust him to make the decisions that would be in her best interest? </span>
  </em>
  <span>They hadn’t even talked about what would happen if something happened to either of them. It wasn’t a conversation Neville had wanted to have after having to not just have it, but enact it with Hannah. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’ll be okay, Nev.” Ernie’s eyes were brimming with pity, and Neville just nodded, a knot in his throat keeping him from speaking. He’d turned away, and traced the familiar path up to the Janus Thickney Ward. Alice sat in her usual spot, watching the piano play itself, soft music filling the room. He sat beside her, elbows braced on his knees and hands clasped so tightly he left white fingerprints in his own skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The November sky was grey beyond the large windows, but Neville kept his eyes on the floor until Alice stroked his arm. He looked up, and the first few tears slid free as he took in the obvious concern on his mother’s face. Sometimes his parents weren’t emotive at all, but sometimes they were nearly coherent. Today seemed to be the latter, because she stroked his arm gently, and then patted her leg, then repeated the process. Neville watched her do it several more times before he understood she wanted him closer. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He slid from the chair to the floor, and leaned uncertainly against her legs, the soft blanket across her lap cushioning his cheek against her knee. Alice hummed in what he assumed was approval, and pet his hair gently. The soft affection broke what remained of the dam holding back his fear and anguish. Tears streamed down his face, and his shoulders shuddered with his gasping breaths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He missed Hannah so much it hurt. He was angry that she’d left him alone, and angrier that the cancer had cut her vibrant life short, and not even magic could save her. Fear that the same would happen to Pansy, now that he thought that they might have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>chance </span>
  </em>
  <span>at happiness consumed him, and a pitiful sob tore from his throat. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A second gentle touch joined Alice’s, and he opened his eyes to find his father in the chair he’d abandoned. Frank had always been less present than Alice, the healers said that he’d taken the brunt of the torture and it had fractured his mind more severely than hers, but at that moment, he had the same look of concern for his son that his wife had. A potted pansy sat on the at his elbow.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>With his father’s hand on his shoulder, and his mother’s fingers combing through his hair, Neville let the tears fall freely. Alice hummed, and Frank’s hand trembled but neither moved as grief held their son captive. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“If something happens to Pansy, it's over,” he whispered. “I can’t lose her too. I can’t, Mum. I can’t.” The soft fleece absorbed his tears, and Alice continued to stroke his hair until he cried himself dry. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting on the floor, but it was dark now, and candles around the conservatory filled it with warm light. He stayed with his cheek against his mother’s knee, relishing the loving care he’d so long missed from his parents.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“She’s funny,” he finally whispered. “She’s funny and so smart. She loves her brother and sister so much, even if she doesn’t say it. She would go to the ends of the earth for Poppy and Everett. Gran suggested having the wedding in April, but Poppy won’t be back from Beauxbatons until May, and she refused to even consider having the wedding without her.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville closed his eyes, and reached for Frank’s hand on his shoulder. “Her favorite color is purple, but she wants the wedding in green and blue because of our eyes. She’s going to make an amazing mum someday. Minerva keeps asking me if she’d take Filius’ position when he retires, but I don’t think she’d give up wedding planning. She does the most incredible things, and her clients love her.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Alice still hummed above him, and Frank’s tremulous hands sandwiched his on his shoulder as he sat and talked to them about his fiancee. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I miss Hannah,” he said quietly. “I know you both do, too. I hope you’ll love Pansy like you loved Hannah, though. She’s… She’s different from…  from Hannah. But she’s good. She’s lovely. And she’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever met. She was so sick today, but still gorgeous.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Alice’s fingers worked through his hair, and he fell quiet, exhaustion hitting him like a wall. He sat there on the floor until Ernie found him. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“She’s out. Her appendix burst before surgery, and it took longer to clear it out than we expected, but we got it all, and she’s going to be fine.” Ernie smiled. “She’s still waking up, but she’s asking for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville stared blankly up at his friend from his place on the floor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What does he mean she’s asking for me? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you want to stay here that’s fine, but can I at least tell her you’re coming? She’s just as impatient as I remember from school,” Ernie laughed, and Neville shook his head. Alice patted his head one last time, and Frank withdrew his hands, as if they were letting him go. Neville climbed slowly to his feet, and turned back to his parents. Alice was smiling, humming a bit more energetically. Frank picked up the potted pansy with shaking hands, and held it out to Neville. He took it, and leaned down to hug him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Thanks Dad,” he whispered, and Frank patted his back gently. He gave Alice a hug, and she sat back, smoothing her hands over the blanket on her lap. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Ernie waited patiently as Neville took one last look at his parents and shifted the potted plant in his arm. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>In the post-surgical ward, Ernie left him, and he took a seat next to Pansy’s sleeping form. Her heartbeat was displayed on a sheet of glass above the bed, and he watched the steady rhythm for a few moments before reaching for her hand. At his touch, the display moved faster as her pulse quickened. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, Pans, it’s just me,” he whispered, and her eyes cracked open, for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the deepest blue. Her eyes fluttered closed again, and her heart slowed again as she relaxed, a smile turning her lips up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You came,” she murmured, and Neville pressed his cheek to the back of his hand. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of course I did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alice’s hand slowed in his hair, and he cracked his eyes open to find Frank and Pansy standing in front of them, Pansy’s arm looped through Frank’s. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Frank and I are going to go get into some trouble. Do you and Alice want in?” She smiled mischievously, and Neville raised an eyebrow. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I hear the gardens are being redone, and I think I heard some frogs up there,” she whispered with a wink. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Heard them or are you sniffing out chocolate,” he teased, and she shrugged.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I dunno. Do you want to come frog hunting, Alice?” Pansy turned her bright smile to Alice, who patted Neville as if telling him to move so she could get up. Neville gladly moved aside, allowing Alice to join Pansy and Frank for their tradition of sharing chocolate frogs in the rooftop garden. He watched the three together, smiling at the picture it made. They only made it a few steps before Pansy stopped, turned, and reached for Neville. He grinned at her and joined them without hesitation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re coming,” she whispered, sliding her hand into his. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of course,” he whispered back. He never could tell her no. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The One With Ivy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You okay? You’ve been kinda quiet.” Pansy hovered in the door that led to the back garden, watching Neville prune some kind of plant she couldn’t remember the name of. Ever since they’d gotten back from St Mungo’s, Neville hadn’t said much. She’d asked about dinner and only gotten a shrug in response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine.” It was the most he’d said yet, and she didn’t believe him. Regardless, she left him to it, and dug through the pantry for something simply to pull together for dinner. She didn’t think she was the best cook ever, but she could put together a few decent dishes and she knew how to read a recipe. She settled on chicken and a garden salad, and was just pulling it out of the oven when Neville called to her. She set it aside with a stasis charm over it to keep it hot, and stepped into the garden. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t see Neville anywhere, and a jolt of panic rushed through her until she heard his voice coming from around the front of the house, accompanied by a higher voice and a laugh. She wondered if Luna had come back, and warily peeked around the corner. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It wasn’t Luna Neville was talking to, but two familiar faces. “Aisling? Sam?” She cocked her head as she drew closer, and Neville automatically reached for her, tucking her into his side. “What are you two doing here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Samantha had cut her dark hair shorter since last time Pansy had seen her, her wavy hair barely brushing her shoulders, and Aisling was wearing a shade of green lipstick that was so dark it was nearly black. Both girls were in muggle clothing, Sam in jeans and a band tshirt while Aisling wore a corduroy miniskirt with a plain white shirt. Though Pansy had rarely seen them out of their school robes, neither of their choices surprised her, and she noted that Aisling must’ve used the trick Pansy had shown her, because none of the dark lipstick touched her teeth as she smiled widely at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Miss Par--” Sam’s greeting was cut off by a sharp jab to her ribs from Aisling’s elbow. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It’s Mrs Longbottom now,” she corrected her, shifting the large wicker basket in her arms to her hip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pansy is fine,” she laughed. “We’re not at school and I’m not your teacher anyway.” Neville squeezed his arm around her waist gently, and she smiled up at him. Whatever cloud that had hung over him since leaving St. Mungo’s had evaporated, and his hazel eyes sparkled in the evening light. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“We have a surprise for you.” Neville’s smile grew even larger, and Sam was nearly bouncing in place. Pansy’s brows furrowed in confusion, and Aisling held out the wicker basket. A big purple bow tied it shut, and Neville nudged her forward. “Go on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy reached for the end of the ribbon, pulling it free, and froze when she heard a tiny whimper. She glanced at the two girls and Neville, all of whom looked as if they were going to burst from excitement. “What--” </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just open it, Love.” Neville’s face was going to split in two if he smiled any bigger, so she yanked the ribbon free, and picked the lid off. There was a lilac coloured blanket filling the bottom of the basket, and in the center, a fluffy ball filled a small crater in the blanket. And then the ball of fluff yawned, a tiny pink tongue rolling out, and two warm brown eyes blinked sleepily up at her in the sudden bright light. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s mouth dropped open, and she just stared. Sam was bouncing on the balls of her feet now, and Aisling stepped a bit closer with the basket. “Are you going to pick her up? She’s super sweet!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy looked up at Neville with wide eyes. “Are you-- Did you-- Is--” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yes to all,” he said with a wink, and Pansy’s hand flew up to cover her mouth before looking back down at the tiny ball of fluff. She reached out a tentative hand to touch the puppy, and it nuzzled into her touch with a tiny huffing sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” </span>
  <span>Neville broke open the seal Sam handed him with his thumb, scanning quickly over it. </span>
  <span>“Miss Drummond and Miss Geoffrey  were caught sneaking into the restricted section, claiming they were looking for a book for Professor Longbottom,” he summarized. “Funny. I don’t remember requesting a book from the restricted section.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, Sir, you did tell us to get past our differences. And we were just looking for an opportunity to increase our knowledge of Herbology.” Aisling smiled, and Sam glanced hopefully at him, as if she thought there was a chance he’d buy it. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Knowledge that you were then going to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>with, exactly?” Aisling shifted her gaze quickly away, and Neville hummed. “That’s what I thought.”  He considered the two girls carefully, sighing heavily when he realized the only time he’d be able to host a detention was the same afternoon Pansy was supposed to come for tea and to go over some of the finer wedding details. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you’ll be joining me and Miss Parkinson Wednesday evening,” he told them dryly, and Sam cringed slightly. Aisling elbowed her sharply, jerking her head at Neville with a pointed expression. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Now?” Sam looked exasperated, but Aisling grinned and nodded excitedly. Neville watched the exchange with veiled interest. Apparently they’d found they got on better than they expected. Sam sighed heavily. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“On a completely unrelated note, we had an idea!” Aisling’s eyes glittered dangerously. It was rare to see a Slytherin get giddy, and Neville didn’t know if he was going to like whatever plot they’d concocted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remember I told you my parents breed spaniels?” Sam asked, looking far more wary than her classmate, which set off a number of flag’s in Neville’s brain, but he nodded. “Well…” She shifted her weight, and Aisling sighed. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Spit it out,” Aisling hissed, and Sam rolled her eyes at the other girl.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“My parents have a litter that will be ready about the time of your wedding to Miss Parkinson.” Sam looked embarrassed, but Aisling had evidently had enough and jumped in.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“We want to give her-- well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you-- </span>
  </em>
  <span>a puppy as a wedding gift! But Sam’s parents said we had to clear it with you first. But Miss Parkinson’s always wanted one and--” She gasped dramatically, tapping Sam’s shoulder excitedly. “YOU COULD BRING IT TO CLASS!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam’s eyes lit up, and she got caught up in her crush’s excitement. “Oh my god, PLEASE Professor!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville found himself made speechless by a student for the first time in a long while. “Hold on. You two--” he motioned between the two bouncing girls, Aisling wrapped firmly around Sam’s left arm, “Want to give my wife a puppy… So I can bring it to class?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well we want to give your fiancee a puppy but we definitely wouldn’t say no if you brought it to class!” Aisling corrected him, still bouncing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing a sigh. He didn’t know if a puppy would be the best way to start off a marriage. Especially one he still didn’t know how to navigate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me think about it, girls. A puppy is a big commitment,” he finally said, and Aisling’s face fell. “I’m not saying no,” he said gently. “I just need to think about it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam nodded solemnly, and Aisling followed her lead after a moment. “We’ll see you in class tomorrow, Professor,” Sam told him, already withdrawing from his office. Neville stared after them for a long moment before turning back to the stack of essays he’d been grading before the duo had interrupted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was still thinking about their offer when he stepped into the Leaky that evening. He took the beer Susan had waiting for him and joined Luna at their usual table in the back. She greeted him with a soft smile, but turned her attention back to a spot across the pub, where a knot of aurors sat laughing loudly. Neville could see Matteo, Harry, and Hestia Jones, and it looked like Ron was at the bar chatting to Susan with Bernie Savage beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Small group tonight,” he remarked, and Luna nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Draco said something happened and he’d be at the hospital late.” Luna tilted her head. “Matt knows something. Look.” Neville followed her line of sight, and sure enough, Matteo Romero glanced around the pub every few seconds, eyes flicking to the clock above the mantle with every pass. “I don’t like it.” she whispered, and Neville reached across the table, squeezing her hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’ll be okay,” he said gently, and she sighed, turning her luminous blue eyes to him for the first time since he’d sat across from her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Draco takes losses hard... But you have something weighing on you. Your aura looks cloudy. Is everything alright with Pansy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville huffed a short, humourless laugh. “Pansy’s fine. A couple of my students… They just gave me something to consider. But it's a commitment I don’t know if she wants.” He took a sip of his beer, avoiding Luna’s eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luna tilted her head one way, and then the other. “What are you afraid of?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her question made him pause. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What was he afraid of? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luna took a dainty sip of her drink, waiting with unending patience as Neville sorted through his thoughts and feelings. He was halfway through his beer before he came up with an answer for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid she’ll end up running away from me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luna plucked a fallen petal from the chrysanthemum in the bud vase in the center of the table, smoothing it between her fingers. “Has she ever had someone she didn’t need to run from?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville froze, the bottle halfway to his lips. He set it down slowly, the image of Pansy retreating from her mother’s painful barbs over dinner flashing before his eyes. Even her closest friends, Daphne and Draco… There had been times that she’d had to withdraw from them. She’d told him as much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a commitment is what she needs to keep her from running.’ Luna dropped the petal, flicking her wand and transfiguring the purple petal into a length of satin ribbon, tying it neatly in a bow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bell above the door jingled, and Neville Rolf glanced up to find Ernie and the Head Auror Healer, Kenna Vance coming in, both looking grim. Luna’s face twisted when Kenna leaned over Matteo’s shoulder, whispering in his ear. </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luna offered the bow to him. “Joy. Love. Longevity.” She smiled sadly. “I’m going to go find Draco. He’ll need to let go for a while. I’m not as good with the complex knots as Rolf, but </span>
  <span>Rolf won’t be back for a few days and I don’t think he’ll mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She slid out of the booth, and kissed Neville on the cheek before slipping between the tables and out the door. Neville watched Kenna take Matteo’s now empty chair and steal a chip from Ron’s plate. He considered joining them, but in the end decided that he’d rather take Pansy dinner. He pocketed the purple ribbon, and resolved to tell the girls that he was grateful to them the next day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s her name?” Pansy stroked the puppy’s silky ears, and it yawned widely before snuggling in closer to Pansy’s chest. Her reddish fur shone copper in the afternoon sun, and </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“She’s yours, so it’s up to you.” Neville shoved his hands in his pockets, positively beaming at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ours,” Pansy corrected softly, meeting his hazel eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awww!” Aisling and Sam cooed at them in tandem, and Pansy felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but she couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips as the puppy stretched. She carefully lowered the puppy to the lawn, letting her sniff out her new home.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you three,” she chided them gently. “How long have you been planning this?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville shrugged. “A while.” She shook her head, pressing a hand to her aching cheeks. “Thank you,” she told the girls. “I can’t… I don’t even know what to say.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell us you’ll let Professor Longbottom bring her to class sometimes,” Sam said with a laugh, and Aisling elbowed her playfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>idea.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I liked it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy laughed. “Says the one that threw a pot at her not even six months ago.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Sam blushed scarlet, and shrugged, taking Aisling’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “Worth the extra detention,” she said with a shrug, and Aisling dissolved into giggles beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville rolled his eyes, and then looked around. “Uh…. Where did she go?” </span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The three women immediately searched the ground around them, but it was Pansy to find the flash of red fur in the green around the foundation of the house. She retrieved the puppy with a flick of her wand, and gently pulled the ivy leaf out of her mouth. “Ivy is not for puppies,” she scolded the dog with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a cute name though!” Aisling reached out with her free hand and scratched behind the puppy’s ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is, isn’t it?” Neville cocked his head at Pansy, who nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect.” She lifted the puppy up to kiss the top of her head, settling her down on her shoulder as it yawned again. “Welcome home, Ivy.” Neville slipped an arm around her, pulling her close into his side and kissed the top of her own head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Talk about the cutest family </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aisling breathed, and Sam laughed, but Pansy silently agreed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They did make a pretty cute family, if she did say so herself. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. The One Where Neville’s in Pansy’s Corner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neville finished the dishes that night by hand, watching Pansy’s blinding smile in the reflection of the kitchen window as she played with Ivy. The look on her face when he’d produced a dog bed, food, a collar, and toys from his shed had been priceless. She’d immediately charmed “Ivy” onto all of it, and went on a puppy-proofing rampage across the house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville had watched Ivy trailing after her like a tiny, yawning shadow, laughing when she’d struggled up the stairs. He’d taken pity on her, scooping her up and following Pansy through various rooms as she picked up various items, stowing them out of the baby dog’s reach or casting imperturbable charms to keep her out of cupboards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>He hadn’t gotten her to settle enough to eat the dinner she’d made until long after dark, and now it was nearing midnight as he dried the last pan and put it away. </span><span><br/></span> <span><br/><br/></span><span>“Thank you,” came Pansy’s voice at his elbow as he straightened from stowing the pan away. </span><span><br/></span></p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It's only fair, since you made dinner.” He turned and was only slightly surprised at how closer she was, a sleeping Ivy cradled in her arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not what I meant, but thank you for that too.” Her deep blue eyes sparkled like the cosmos, and he had never been so grateful to his students for their thoughtfulness as he was in that moment. Pansy lowered her eyes, stroking Ivy’s soft, wavy fur. “She’s perfect.” He brought his hands up, cradling her elbows as she rocked the puppy. His breath caught and his chest ached with the quiet beauty of the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” It came out rough, choked, but her eyes lifted and he could breathe again. He leaned in and kissed her, sweetly and gently, until her hand slid around his waist, digging her nails in through his shirt and pressing against him so tightly he began to worry about the tiny dog sandwiched between them. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He pulled away, cupping her cheek and swiping his thumb across her kiss-reddened lips. “Put her to bed,” he whispered, adding a touch of force behind his words. Her pupils expanded, and she nodded obediently. Tossing the kitchen towel to the countertop behind him, he followed Pansy down the hallway, leaving her to tuck Ivy into her bed while he locked all the doors with a flick of his wand, and climbed the stairs two at a time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He considered undressing while he waited, but ultimately decided he’d wait, if only because the way she looked at him as he revealed his body to her was worth it, without fail. In the bedroom, he took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and exhaled slowly before sitting in the velvet chair that faced the bed. Neville stretched his legs out and rested his fingertips together, bracing his elbows on the carved arms of the chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could hear Pansy coming, rushing up the stairs, and then stopping cold in the doorway. He glanced over to see her knuckles blanching around the doorframe, her chest heaving after her sprint up the stairs. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Come here, Petal.” It was difficult to keep his voice steady, but Pansy needed steady at times like this. When she let down her walls enough to show her enthusiasm and desire, she needed to feel safe. He opened his arms, welcoming her to him, and she came to rest between his thighs. She slipped her arms around his neck, and he grabbed her hips, squeezing firmly to let her know he was in control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was tall enough that even while he was sitting, she were nearly at eye level. Her pupils were blown wide, and he could feel her struggling to regulate her breathing. He swiped his thumb across her hip under her blouse, and soon her breathing followed his measured movements. “Good girl, Petal,” he whispered into her ear, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the tender skin under her ear. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could smell her shampoo and the perfume she’d put on before they’d gone to St Mungo’s, and when her fingers began to work through the hair at the nape of his neck, he couldn’t help thinking back to the day that he’d first gotten to hold her just like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Professor?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville looked up from the stack of second year essays he was grading to find sixth year Eleanor Nott in the doorway, nearly in tears. It wasn’t unusual to have crying students as the pressure leading up to the end of year exams mounted, but it was only March, and as far as he knew, Ellie wasn’t much of the crying type. Her bastard father had ensured that before he’d been locked away for the rest of his days in Azkaban. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked uncertain for a minute, but then stepped through the threshold of his office door and blurted, “you have to do something!” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville set his quill aside, and motioned for her to take one of the chairs across from his desk. She perched on the edge of the chair, and Neville noted how thin she appeared, the bones in her hands standing out in sharp relief as she wrung her hands nervously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Neville spoke softly, not wanting to scare her off before he got anything else out of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Poppy doesn’t want to come back.” Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, but it wasn’t enough, and a rogue drop trickled down her cheek. “She said she’s of age and she’ll stay at Beauxbatons next year. You have to tell Pansy. She’s the only one Poppy will listen to.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville resisted the urge to heave a sigh and simply waited for Ellie to continue. It didn’t take long, Neville only made it to 27 in his head before it came out in a rush. “You know how awful Aunt Cordelia is. Poppy’s good at covering it up but she doesn’t want to come back and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>to come back!” She brushed angrily at the tears. “You can’t tell her I told you but she needs to be here! I miss my best friend but Everett’s a mess and Aunt Cordelia won’t lay off.” More tears trickled down her cheeks.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville’s stomach clenched. He’d suspected as much, but he’d thought the truth would eventually come from Pansy or maybe Everett, not Ellie. It made him that much more glad that he’d made it clear where they stood from the beginning, but now his mind was racing, trying to figure out how to approach an extremely delicate situation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would it be so bad if she stayed, if that’s what she wants?” Neville tried gently, but Ellie shook her head emphatically, her auburn curls flying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t want to! She’s just afraid that if she comes back she’s going to get forced into a marriage like Pansy and there won’t be anything she can do about it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neville’s stomach twisted uncomfortably again, but he leaned forward, fingering the edge of the gilt frame that sat on his desk. There had once been a plain black frame with a picture of Hannah taken the day she and Susan had closed on The Leaky, but he’d tucked it away in a drawer after he’d agreed to let his gran find a match for him. Once Pansy had agreed to his proposal, he’d replaced it with one of the photos they’d taken together for the announcements. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scrubbing the palm of his other hand against his thigh, he flipped the frame around. “Pansy isn’t being forced.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie’s eyes grew wide as she took in the photo. The one they’d given to </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Prophet </span>
  </em>
  <span>had been suitably proper, Pansy’s smile demure, her hands folded carefully to showcase the ring that made its home on her fourth finger, with Neville standing proudly beside her, his hand resting lightly on her back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This photo however, was different. The photographer, Lily Moon, had snapped the photo right after Neville had made a bad joke and drawn a real smile from Pansy. The photo captured her turning towards him, her eyes sparkling as they laughed, and Neville’s arm coming up to hold her elbow as if the next moment he was going to kiss her, looping back to her tossing her hair back with a laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It may not have been what she expected, but if she didn’t agree freely, there wouldn’t be a wedding.” Neville left the frame facing her, scrubbing his palm across his jeans again. “I’ll talk to Pansy, and have her talk to Poppy. But if Poppy really doesn’t want to come back to Hogwarts, I don’t know that we can change her mind. She’s just as stubborn as Pansy, and I know I can’t change Pansy’s mind on </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie looked torn between appeased and skeptical, but nodded anyway. Neville eyed her carefully. The Notts were slender, but he doubted she was eating properly, and he had a nagging feeling that her worry for Poppy was playing into it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don't you stay for tea? Pansy will actually be here, and I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes got wide. “Please don’t tell her it’s me! Poppy will never forgive me but I—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey. I won’t tell Pansy anything you don’t want me to.” Neville reassured her with a soothing tone. “Just that I heard Poppy isn’t coming back.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Ellie fidgeted with the strap of her bag, but eventually nodded, just in time for the flames in the floo to glow emerald, and Pansy stepped out, brushing soot from her skirt with an irritated expression. Neville watched the irritation fade as she recognized the students across his desk, and felt justified in asking Ellie to stay, because Ellie rushed towards her, hugging Pansy tightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stayed quiet, letting them have their mini-reunion. They’d seen her at the Parkinson’s Yule party just a few months before, but it had been under the disapproving eye of Cordelia, Narcissa Malfoy, and half a dozen other pure-blooded socialites. Neville had seen the frustration in Pansy’s face that she couldn’t hug Ellie like she wanted to, after years of protecting her like she’d protected Poppy and Everett. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now though, she held onto Ellie tightly, and he wondered if the day would ever come that she’d allow him to hold her like that. Like if he let go, she’d crumble to pieces. They’d made strides since the engagement, since her appendix had made her ill, since Luna’s truth bomb had shaken her to her core, but that still hadn’t been a wall they’d jumped. A tea tray appeared on his desk, courtesy of one of the house elves, and he busied himself making their tea. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span><br/>He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he did manage to catch Pansy’s look of surprise when she looked over and saw the photo on his desk facing outwards. She briefly met his eyes, and he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy and Ellie eventually drifted closer, and Neville came out from behind his desk to kiss her cheek hello. He was all too aware of Ellie watching closely, but when Pansy returned the gesture, the younger girl seemed satisfied. He flipped the frame back around as they sat side by side across from him, letting the two carry the conversation. He could see the regret in both of their faces when it came time for the next class period to start, but Pansy reassured her that she was there several times a week and Ellie was always welcome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie’s next class was several floors up, and when she left, Pansy stared at the door for a long moment. Neville’s next class was the fifth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and he was relatively certain if he was late it wouldn’t be the end of anyone’s life or limb, so he waited. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go,” she said suddenly, looking back at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. “But I’ll see you for dinner tonight?” She waited for his nod, and disappeared through the floo without a kiss goodbye. The next several hours he spent fretting, worried that by inviting Ellie to stay he’d upset her, or made her think she wasn’t doing enough for the girl she thought of like a sister more than a cousin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After his classes were over and the greenhouses were tidied and securely locked, he stepped through the floo to her own office, finding Pansy at her desk, hundreds of paint chips spread out around her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked around, and panic touched her eyes. “It’s not--” she looked around for the clock, and her words died in her throat. “I’m so sorry, I thought I had more--” Her panic was mounting, and Neville stepped forward automatically, reaching for her as he would have done with Hannah. He realized his mistake when she stiffened at his touch and fell silent, but he held on for a heartbeat longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he said as he released her, stepping back, his cheeks burning. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t be,” she whispered, her eyes wide. Like earlier, she shook her head sharply, and looked away, hurriedly picking up the paint chips. “I know we said we were going to Tres e Viverna tonight but can we go back to my place? I’m really not in the mood for being stared at.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville just nodded, relief coursing through him. He’d also been dreading being seen in public, given the delicate nature of the conversation he was about to initiate with her. He watched her gather the colorful cards together in a neat stack, sending them flying to their proper place in a cabinet across the room with a flick of her wand. She was so precise with her wand movements, like an artist at a canvas. Her style reminded him a bit of Minerva’s, though he wouldn’t tell her that again. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She finished quickly, and he followed her back through the floo, this time stepping out into her flat. Pansy pulled together a tasty meal, and they ate mostly in companionable silence. Neville did the dishes, urging her to go relax on the sofa until he was done. He spent the entire time trying to decide how to best bring up Poppy’s reluctance to return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he sat down on the sofa, Pansy was standing at the bookshelf, a glass of wine in hand as she stared thoughtfully at a photo of herself, Poppy, Theo, Ellie, and Everett. It had been taken the summer after the Battle of Hogwarts, and it always felt weird seeing Pansy’s blunt bobbed hair. It didn’t feel right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?” Neville asked carefully, never completely sure where Pansy’s mind would be when she thought about the past. She swirled her wine around her glass and took a small sip before answering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just that I can’t wait for Poppy to be back.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville bit his lip, recognizing that this was his chance. “I had a couple of the teachers ask if she was planning on finishing out her NEWTs at Beauxbatons. They’d heard she wasn’t coming back to Hogwarts next term.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy looked sharply over, and Neville hoped that she hadn’t seen through his lie </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>quickly, but it seemed he was in the clear when she shook her head. “Everett said something similar but Poppy wouldn’t do that. She said she’d only do one year abroad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neville shrugged. “It sounds like its been good for her. She sounded happy in her last letter.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy tapped the side of her glass agitatedly, and shook her head again. “She wouldn’t do that.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville sorted through a dozen different responses before setting on one similar to the one he’d given Ellie. “Would it be so awful if she did? If she’s happy and safe there?” Pansy froze, but he could see the wine trembling in her glass. “One more year. You spent longer than that defending Draco.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Poppy’s not me,” she whispered. “Everett needs--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“He’s got us.” Neville watched her carefully, and she turned slowly, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re already stuck with me, and you want to add my kid brother to the equation?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m not stuck anywhere,” Neville said calmly. “And I know how much he means to you. And Poppy. I don’t know them like you do, but I’ve taught them both, and I care for them too.” He cleared his throat, and rubbed his palm down the seam of his jeans. “They use the same Arnica and witch hazel tricks you did in school.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy’s face went deathly pale, and she set her wine glass aside with shaking hands. “I don’t--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pans, you don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that all three of you have me in your corner now. Whatever necessary. You’re safe now.” He reached for her hand, which to his surprise, she took. He gently pulled her closer, until she was standing between his knees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He met her eyes, and the gunmetal irises bore into his, until she leaned the rest of the way into him. He didn’t hesitate to bring his arms around her, enveloping her in a hug that he poured every bit of himself into, trying to silently tell her she didn’t have to worry with him there. She melted into his hold, and it was better than he’d imagined that afternoon in his office. She smelled sweet and fruity like cherries, with something spicier that shot straight to his cock. But he was happy to hold her, to be supportive when she obviously needed it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long he held her that night, but he didn’t for a second take it for granted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You always smell so good, Petal.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hummed somewhere near his collarbone, and he worked his fingers through her hair, the spicy scent growing stronger. She shifted her weight slightly, pressing her thigh into his quickly stiffening cock, and he bit back a moan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d be naked by the time I got here,” she whispered, working her lips up his neck. “But now I guess I get to undress you myself, hmm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was about the moment his fingers found the zip to her skirt, and he tugged it down, letting the fabric settle into a puddle around her high heels. He slid his hands down her thighs, smiling at the quiet gasp of surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Such pretty little sounds, Petal.” He nipped sharply at her earlobe, eliciting a slightly louder gasp this time. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he wished he’d at least taken off his shirt, wanting her marks on his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got his wish when she took a handful of fabric, pulling it free from where it was tucked into his jeans, and then her hands were fumbling down the buttons, pulling it open and pressing her palms against his abdomen. He shrugged out of the shirt, glad he’d left his sleeves rolled up from the dishes and tossed it aside. Pansy leaned back slightly, her eyes roaming over his exposed chest, her own heaving again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tugged at the hem of her blouse, and she shed it immediately, tossing it in the same general direction as his. She had a lacy bra on in a shade of pink that he was suddenly simultaneously very fond of and very irritated with for being in his way. Her knickers were pale blue, and the nude heels still fastened around her ankles were just begging him to give her legs his undivided attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes to steady himself, and was surprised when Pansy’s hands disappeared from his skin, and then she was guiding his hands to her breasts, now free of their lacy confines. Her breasts were on the small side, but they fit nicely in his hands and were delightfully sensitive; something he was hoping to experiment with soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She moaned as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, and ground her thigh against his cock again, now completely hard and straining against his jeans. “Petal,” he warned, his voice a low growl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir?” She panted, hands grasping at his hips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay still, like we talked about.” She whined in response, but her hips stopped. He kissed her neck in approval, smiling against her smooth skin. “Good girl, Petal.” Her legs trembled, but she didn’t rock forward again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we try something new tonight, Petal?” He kept kissing down her neck and across her collarbones, tweaking her nipples at uneven intervals to keep her from sinking into a rhythm. There was a sound of agreement between her sweet gasps, so he closed his lips around one nipple while he traced her curves, ending with a finger rubbing over her damp knickers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to hear you,” he reminded her firmly, and she answered with a whimper. He paused his movements, releasing her nipple and withdrawing his finger from the wet patch between her thighs. He met her eyes, and he could see the wheels turning, trying to grasp on to what she wanted to say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Green. Please, green.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled. She was his perfect little petal, and he was going to show her just how much he appreciated her. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. The One With Neville's First Command</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Gods, that smile. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy shuddered under Neville’s light touch, fighting the urge to arch into him. He’d already told her to hold still, and she wasn’t going to disobey. Being patient was worth it in the end. He’d made that incredibly clear almost immediately upon her leaning of his…. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Predilections.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luna’s surprise revelation at her birthday party had initially scared her stiff, and it had taken Neville one very long weekend of explaining himself before she agreed to give him-- and </span>
  <em>
    <span>it-- </span>
  </em>
  <span>a chance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trying new things nearly always ended well for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Wednesday after Luna’s party she got a note, delivered by a Hogwarts owl named Maximus. Neville had sent her notes before, and she slid her thumb under the flap of the envelope to break the scarlet seal embossed with a roaring lion. Whatever it was that she’d expected to get from him, it certainly wasn’t two lines that made her cheeks burn and shove it into her desk drawer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dinner at my place at seven. Wear your sexiest lingerie. -N</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daphne had arched an eyebrow at her from her place sprawled across the sofa in Pansy’s office, and Pansy had covered her shock with a mask of disinterest, only digging out the missive again once Daphne had left, letting her eyes linger on his bold words. There was no hesitation in his writing, no ink pooling where he’d paused, or broken line where he’d second guessed himself. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>That alone was enough to send a shiver of anticipation down her spine, and when she dressed for dinner that evening, she pictured him at his desk in the castle, writing the words only for her eyes while his students were none the wiser. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later that night, she looked herself over in the mirror, smoothing the black lace of her bra and knickers to lay flat against her skin. The matching garter belt rested against her hips, and she felt a little bad when she buttoned her dress up over the set, hiding it from view. But she supposed it wouldn’t be wasted if Neville wanted her to be on display for him. She wasn’t going to disappoint him after his first…. Direction? Order? Command? Whatever it was, she was going to impress him. The dress was one of her favorites, a deep v neck making her breasts look better than normal, especially with the black lace teasing what was hidden beneath it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart pounded as she stepped through the floo, and was greeted by Neville on the other side. His oxford and slacks looked freshly pressed, and when he leaned down to kiss her cheek, she noticed he smelled as if he’d just stepped out of the shower, like soap and aftershave. The butterflies in her stomach went into overdrive, but if he noticed, he didn’t say anything. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She still wasn’t sure what he was going to do to her, but the shiver that followed his fingers up her spine wasn’t unpleasant. She sat at the table, watching him carefully as he pulled a roast from the oven, telling her about some new plant hybrid a witch in Chile was working on in conjunction with the wizarding school in Japan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard to focus on what he said throughout dinner, waiting for him to tell her to strip for him, or something more. The anticipation made her squirm in her seat as dinner was cleared away and replaced with cannolis from a Cobra de Peluche box. She nearly whimpered aloud when he wiped a drop of cream from the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The entire time he acted as if nothing had changed, as if they were nothing more than friends chatting over dinner. His eyes never once strayed down to her cleavage, or looked as if he knew what sexy secrets hid beneath her dress. She was inexplicably disappointed when he walked her to the floo, and kissed her cheek goodnight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped back, hands in his pockets, his hazel eyes ripping her self control to shreds, a slight, crooked smile on his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you want to see?” She blurted it before she could stop it, and his smile grew devious. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Do you want me to see?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy swore she was going to die of embarrassment, her cheeks on fire and the heat creeping down her neck and across her chest. “I just thought you wanted…” She trailed off, averting her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look at me, Petal.” His voice was gentle but firm --his “dom voice,” as Luna had put it-- drawing her eyes up to his. “I want to see every part of you, and I will. But not yet.” His smile grew a bit wider, and Pansy thought she was going to melt into a puddle right there on his floor. “Tonight I want you to try something new.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Apprehension washed over her like a cold wave, but Neville remained unaffected, steadily watching her with those eyes that looked like sunshine through leaves. As if sensing her trepidation, he reached up, tracing her jaw with a light touch, dragging his fingers down her throat and across the black lace that peeked up over her dress. His touch was sure and inexplicably grounding, keeping her attention on him rather than her uneasiness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go home, Petal. Take off this pretty dress, and touch yourself over your pretty lingerie. Watch yourself in the mirror.” Pansy’s breath was coming in short pants now, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his as he spoke in that firm, measured tone. “Use one of those toys hidden in your pyjama drawer-- the purple one, I think. I want you to say my name when you orgasm, Petal.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She gasped, the heat moving abruptly from sensuality to the sinking cold of embarrassment that he knew about the vibrators hidden in her dresser.  “How did--” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Later, Petal.” His fingers trailed down her waist, and traced along the top of her garter belt. “Be a good girl for me tonight. Can you do that?” She worked her mouth for a long moment, unable to make her vocal cords function. Finally she snapped her mouth shut and nodded, heat returning to her cheeks. “I need to hear you, beautiful. What colour?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Green.” It was a strangled whisper, but he nodded approvingly, his eyes surprisingly warm. It shouldn’t have surprised her; he’d never treated her coldly, but it was strangely reassuring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go on, Petal.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, and her lungs were still filled with the scent of him as she spun through emerald flames. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t get her dress off fast enough when she got home, leaving it in a pile in the hallway leading to her bedroom. She did exactly as he said, touching herself over her drenched knickers until she was teetering on the edge before summoning the purple vibrator. She didn’t know how he knew it was her favorite, but when she pressed the tip against her throbbing, swollen clit, she came nearly instantly, Neville’s name on her lips as she shattered into orgasmic bliss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On the bed, on your knees.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He was breathing hard, but his tone was steady and firm. The shiver that would once have been one of apprehension was now of the thrill of anticipation making her spine tingle. She stepped out of her skirt, pooled around her feet, and reached down to unbuckle the thin strap that wrapped around her ankle, but Neville stopped her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leave the heels on. The knickers can go.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She’d never in a million years have used the word “devious” to describe Neville Longbottom. “Sweet,” “polite,” “unassuming,” maybe even “boring” would have been her go-to adjectives before their engagement. But there was no other way to explain the gleam in his eye as she shimmied out of the small, pale blue undergarment. Nude except for the high heels that she’d thought could be classified as “demure,” his eyes devoured her like a starving man at a feast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was sure to exaggerate the swing of her hips as she took the few steps to the bed, crawling across the duvet. Pansy hesitated near the center of the bed, unsure if he wanted her on her hands and knees or if he wanted her to sit up. Her unasked question was answered immediately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just like that Petal. You’re so pretty on display for me.” His approval dripped like honey, and she’d gladly drown in it. Her legs trembled when he dragged one finger up the back of one of her thighs, stopping at the point her arse met her leg. She hoped it would drift inwards, towards her throbbing clit, but his touch disappeared completely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A whimper escaped her throat, and she had the thought that she’d deny to her death that he was capable of making her fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>whimper, </span>
  </em>
  <span>until his fingers rubbed over her lower lips and her mind went totally blank. The bed behind her shifted, and she could feel the heat of his body against her bare skin. He’d lost his trousers and pants, only skin meeting her legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Strong fingers wrapped around her ankles, tracing the strap of her heels, and her arms began to tremble. “So pretty,” came his voice, and she arched her back, hoping that he’d touch her more. He rewarded her with a soft stroke over her clit, and his lips pressed against the base of her spine, sending shivers up and down it, electrifying her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His tongue dipped into the dimples on either side of her back, and she arched further, until her breasts were pressed into the bed and she was fisting the pillows above her head. He played with her, alternating between open-mouthed kisses along her spine to feathery light touches over her clit until she was on the edge, and then his hands and lips disappeared. She came down from the brink of orgasm slowly, the frustrating ache between her legs making her want to grind against the solid thighs still positioned behind her, or maybe just turn around and straddle him. She could use him to get exactly what she wanted, except… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Petal. Don’t touch.” She withdrew the hand that had been drifting nearer to her core, and opened her eyes to the expanse soft cotton covering their bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” she whispered, wiggling her arse in a rather undignified manner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please what?” His voice was low, steady, and she wanted to scream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please touch me,” she whined, and Neville obliged, running his hands over her thighs and back. It wasn’t strictly what she wanted, but somewhere in her mind she acknowledged it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>what she’d asked for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please touch my clit,” she whispered. Her face was on fire, and she buried it in the duvet, letting her hair fall around her, hiding her completely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for asking so nicely, Petal.” His praise was accompanied by a finger pressing against her clit, and she sighed when he kissed the outside of her thigh again. She climbed to the brink of orgasm more quickly this time, and she nearly cried out when he withdrew his touch again, seconds before she would have climaxed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She struggled to draw in a breath until she turned her face slightly, inhibitions lowering as he left her needing more than he was giving her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neville!” It was a keening whine, and he kissed her back gently, lips brushing over her ribs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Petal?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need— please— I can’t—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What colour, love?” The tone of his voice shifted slightly, and she had to focus to open her eyes. Through her hair she could see his brow furrowed in concern, and it took several heartbeats for her to understand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Green. But I need to come. Please let me come,” she panted, and his shoulders relaxed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good girl,” he murmured, wrapping one arm around her hips, guiding her backwards. His cock nudged at her entrance, and with a rock backwards, she was sliding down it until she was settled against his hips, his cock buried to the hilt. The arm he’d pulled her back with shifted, and he was fingering her clit again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a different sensation, to be played with while simultaneously filled. She hadn’t attempted it before, given the pureblood society’s “no penetration” rule, but she was coming to realize why that rule had been implemented. The pleasure built even more quickly than the previous two times, and the resistance his thick cock presented only heightened it. His fingers rolled, flicked, tapped, and massaged her clit until she was at the brink </span>
  <em>
    <span>again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She tensed, afraid he was going to withdraw again, but he didn’t stop, pumping his cock in and out, his fingers never slowing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pansy thought she was going to be ripped apart at the force of her orgasm, but still he didn’t stop, until he thrust into her one final time, and groaned. She could feel his cock twitching, and through the haze she realized at some point she’d reached back, her nails cutting into his thigh to bring him closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She let her hand fall, and blinked several times as the room spun around them. Neville gently rolled her to her side, extracting himself and leaning away for something. She tried reaching for him, but her limbs may as well have been made of lead, and the world was still spinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lay down beside her a moment later, and she let out a sigh of relief. He was breathing hard, and he pushed his hand up across his forehead, brushing his hair back from his face with his eyes closed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he breathed, and she giggled tiredly. His eyes opened, and stole her breath mid-laugh. She was left stunned, unable to move, and he seemed likewise caught off guard. They stared into eachothers eyes, and Pansy swore to Circe that in that moment, everything changed. </span>
</p>
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